


Aqua drops from the Shower head

by VioletrReader



Category: Red vs Blue
Genre: F/M, Genderswap, Mostly canon compliant except for the obvious, Slow Burn, Walking in on someone in the shower
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2019-12-30 19:20:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18321611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletrReader/pseuds/VioletrReader
Summary: “Hey.” She looks up. It’s Wash.“Hey. So, you’re a freelancer. This what you guys did all day? Fight Tex bots and steal stuff from the UNSC?”He looks like he thinking for a minute and then his helmet tilts down sadly.“All that and no overtime?”“Y’know I’ve never met anyone who could make me want to kill myself so easily.”“Whoa dude, don’t jump.”





	1. Wash didn’t know Tucker was a girl. Oops.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sapphire and Rose-colored glasses](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5048479) by [Tashilover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tashilover/pseuds/Tashilover). 



> So, I may come back and make changes, but for now, this is the first chapter of my first fan fiction on this website. I’m open to criticism but please give it a fair chance. It’s best to read this looking for a fun distraction. This story was inspired by Saphhire and Rose Colored glasses by Tashilover. If you haven’t already read it, you should, this story is kind of a fanfiction of that fan fiction.
> 
> Please Enjoy.

In her defence, she called dibs on the shower, no matter what Wash says, dibs outranks everything. Caboose knew, blue team had an order to these things.

It’d been a long trip.

Wash was still recovering from the beating he got from the Meta. The UNSC had decided to send them back to their bases in Valhalla. It’d been a long ride, Tucker had spent 9 hours straight behind the wheel of the warthog, Wash was sleeping like the dead in the backseat in the short bouts Caboose would let him.

Caboose kept poking him to make sure he was alive because he was convinced he’d dropped dead. Wash got so mad he told Caboose to get out of the back seat and take a turn driving. Tucker blames Wash’s injuries, and her own exhaustion, but she let him. God help her she let him.

Caboose was allowed to drive fifteen minutes and managed to hit as many muddy ditches, giant rocks and dropped them off two separate cliffs. Wash went from quick naps between pokes -Bow-Chika-Bow-Wow- to holding on for dear life.

Caboose crashed their jeep about a mile from the base. They were stuck walking the rest of the way back. There wasn’t a lot of talking other than Caboose’s occasional attempts at humming. Tucker and Wash took turns snapping at him to shut the fuck up.

“Is it always like this?”

“Dude, I haven’t walked this far since…ever. I have never walked this far before.”

“No, I mean…” He gestures vaguely, “Like _this_. With things constantly going wrong.”

“Oh. Oh, hell yea.” Wash lets out a great sigh,

“This has got to be karma.” He just sounds so defeated as he says it, she has to try and lighten the mood.

“I’ve met Karma. Stripper from the Vegas quadrant. Hotter than hell but not to terribly interested in fucking you up if you don’t pay.” If it helped his mood at all, it did not show. “Bow-Chika-Bow-Wow.”

Wash stares at her for a moment and then insists they all play the no talking game. Tucker asks how he learned about that, he says the red team, then Caboose says “I win!”.

A silent, but reverent agreement pops up between the two of them as they start round two that Caboose doesn’t win a second time.

 

* * *

 

 

When they finally get to the base she feels like there’s lead in her fucking shins. They’re finally just at the door and she’s coated with sweat and her armour’s starting to smell like her armpit. Caboose charges straight past her into the base, totally unaffected by the walk. Wash groans and props himself up with one arm against the doorway,

“Jesus Christ I thought this day would never end.”

“Welcome to Blue team.” Not like she can talk, she’s about to just lay down and fall asleep forever. The only thing that keeps her up is remembering no one’s used the shower in days. Which means the water’s probably hot and ready to go.

Fuck her. There’s an explosion.

“Tucker did it!”

She drops her head back groaning, that was a rattler, she doesn’t know if it’s just anxiety or if the blast was really that bad but her teeth hurt.

Wash charges in, apparently totally ignoring his exhaustion. Tucker decides to wait until she hears yelling. When she does she calmly walks past them. Walks past the broken bits of…Epsilon’s spare parts? Walks straight past Wash ringing Caboose out for not taking better care of dangerous equipment.

Just keep walking, do not look back. The shower beckons.

“Oh! And where are you going?” Oh fuck, what’s his problem with her now?

“Shower.” She sniffs herself through her armour, it’s bad, he should be thanking her. “Dude I smell awful right now. I can’t sleep like this.”

“What about this mess?!”

“Dude, what about it? Caboose made it, he can pick it up tomorrow.”

Wash looks like he’s about to start up again, finger raised like he’s got some grand point to make. But then she can see there’s a minute where he’s absorbing what she said.

Maybe it’s because he’s tired, maybe it’s because he’s still gotta deal with Caboose, or maybe it’s because he doesn’t any reason to be mad at her right now. She doesn’t fucking know, but he sighs and waves his hand at her in surrender.

“Y’know what? Good point. Caboose I want this cleaned up first thing in the morning. ” Caboose bobs his head up and down and agrees happily,

“Ok Church!”

“Caboose I’m not Church.”

“Whatever you say Church!”

Ok, she’s out of here before she gets sucked into the cleaning job, “Oh and Wash? You might want to take a turn after me. You’re right, it was a long day.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you stink man. Hell it’s not just you. Fighting off an evil freelancer makes anyone reek. It’s like a mix of blood, sweat and a little urine.”

Wash starts up all distressed, “I do not-” He stops, and suddenly he seems all sneaky, “Y’know what? You’re right, I do need a shower. So you and Caboose-”

“Dibs.” Ha! Too slow Wash! Wash stops giving her a bizarre look,

“Huh?” Caboose looks at him with this oblivious condescending air,

“Uh, _dibs_ Church. Tucker’s calling dibs on the shower.”

“Again, welcome to Blue team.”

“What!? Tucker you can’t call dibs!”

“Yes I can. Dibs.”

“If you’ll recall, you made me blue team leader. That means I get to decide the shower schedule!”

“Church never did. Besides, I called dibs. Church never had the power to undo dibs.” Seriously, dibs was the only legitimate system that worked for them consistently.

“Well I-Caboose! Put that down!” Caboose seemed to have found the thing that exploded, and it was still sparking. As Wash desperately wrestles with Caboose to get it unplugged, she decides this is clearly a problem for Blue team leader.

She leaves with a sigh and tries not to flinch at the sparking noises behind her. The showers are down on their own level in the basement. There’s this long hall, then you reach the toilets, sinks, and a few mirrors. Then you make a turn to get to the showers.

There aren’t actually stalls just a room with shower heads. A big part of why they drew straws for shower time was because of Tucker, Church bitched about it all the time. That, and how long she used to take in the mornings. Also about how much hot water she used, they eventually worked out a system.

Caboose showered first thing, he brought in his rubber duckies and let them swim all over the floor. Church got it at lunch time until he became a robot and didn’t need them. Tucker gets the shower at the end of the day, so Church doesn’t bitch about how long she takes in the shower.

She strips off her armour as quickly as she can, tripping up on her own Kevlar suit more than once. She’s exhausted and it’s making her clumsy, she’s lucky enough to eye some of Caboose’s shampoo. She doesn’t have any of her own, so she decides to make do.

She gets in the shower and turns on the nozzle, gives it a minute for the water to heat up-

And then suddenly it’s like fucking heaven.

Oh god, her aching back. Aching legs. Aching arms. Everything fucking _hurts_ and the water feels so _good_. She grabs Caboose’s shampoo and lathers it into her hair greedily. Then reaches for his shower gel and squirts generous amounts into her hands. She lathers it up and with a happy sigh starts with her breasts.

She closes her eyes and vaguely wonders if she has enough time to masturbate before Wash demands a turn. She’s had a hard day, she deserves it.

Tucker closes her eyes and starts to go through her mental spank-bank of favourite porn scenes, dirty books, and the scent of mint. She lets herself breathe deep and tilts her head back. She pushes the thought she’ll end up falling asleep to the back of her mind, it all feels too good to stop.

“-and I know you have your “dibs”, but it’s late, we’re all exhausted, and I don’t want to hear it-”

Is that Wash? Is he trying to yell at her in the shower? She opens her eyes. Tucker can hear him moving around and she thinks…taking off his armour?

“Caboose says those are communal showers, so I’m coming in whether you like it or not-” She looks over to the open doorway.

“Bow-Chika-Bow-Wow.”

Holy fuck, there’s Wash.

 _All_ of Wash, standing completely naked. Holy fuck he’s naked.

Naked and petrified.

Wash’s a bit taller than her, so he has to look down to find her eye level. There’s no way for him to miss her rack. He’s frozen solid and his eyes are all wild. It’s like her last laptop after her sixtieth viewing of Reservoir Dogs the Porno all over again.

Holy fuck he looks good.

She was expecting blood, or open wounds but he’s got to be the faster healer she’s ever seen. It’s all just glorious, toned, leaned muscles and _abs_. Glorious abs that go all down his stomach. Son of a bitch has a fucking six pack! God damn, this is just like the start of half her porn.

He’s starring at her breasts. She can’t blame him, they’re awesome. She looks him up and down with a flick of her eyes, and decides, fuck it. Can’t hurt to try.

“Hey baby, if you’re coming already, don’t worry I’ll finish you off quick.” She brushes around some of the suds on her breasts hoping to seal the deal.

His eyes jump up to the ceiling.

Wash flips around on his heel with snapped precision. She’s pretty sure he doesn’t mean to, but he’s giving Tucker a great view of his ass, so she doesn’t complain.

“Oh God! I’m so sorry! I didn’t-“ Tucker can tell the exact moment his brain catches up. Like he needs a minute to replay what she said. His head swings around,

“TUCKER!?!”, She’s surprised he doesn't hurt himself. The second they make eye contact he immediately whips his head straight back into place.

“Yeah man.” Ok, starting to get that Wash isn’t looking for a quickie. “So…Surprised I’m black?”

Church was downright flabbergasted at first sight. He got over it fast enough once she got her shirt off. Tucker could tell Wash is about to flip around on her again but he manages to stop himself half pivot and goes back. He claps a hand over his eyes, head still turned upwards.

“Wha-No! Why are you-You’re a girl?!”

”Nah man. These are just to get out of speeding tickets.” She gestures to her breasts even though he can’t see it. Tucker isn’t getting laid? Fine. Wash doesn’t have to be a jerk about it. Plenty of men would feel pretty damned lucky to see her naked.

“But-your voice!’ At this point Tucker had no idea why he was trying to debate this but she figured the longer she kept him talking the better of a look she got at his toned ass.

“I started using a voice filter, Tex gave me the idea she used one before the reds broke it.” Tucker started using it for talking to the Sanghelli, their sense of gender’s different from the human kind. The closest comparison would be non-binary, but that’s their version of hetero-normative.

She remembers even back when Junior was a baby running around blood gulch, even then his voice was arguably a little deeper than hers. She tries not to let it distract her.

As sweet as the mental image of Junior’s first cooing noises are, him all swaddled up in the blue team flag reaching up for one of her dreads-

She’s trying to fix the memory of Wash’s naked ass in her brain forever, and that is really getting in the way of the mood she’s in.

“So, you’re telling me this entire time-”

“Yes Wash.”

“Oh _God_.” He sounds so tired. Like he’s thinking of just laying down on the floor of the shower and letting the water drown him. Tucker can tell he needs a pick me up.

She wolf whistles at him. Tucker watches as his whole body jumps like he’s hit by lightning. Wash makes a mad dash out of there. He’s faster than she’s ever seen a naked white man run.

 

* * *

 

Tucker takes her time in the shower. She isn’t in the mood for masturbation after Wash ditched her. She washes off the stench and wraps herself up in a towel. She leaves her armour in the bathroom. Tucker can just pick it up in the morning, she’s got spare clothes.

She can hear Caboose snoring, she finds him flat on his face straight as a board on the floor next to the Epsilon pieces. Tucker considers just leaving him like that…but she can’t do it. She keeps imaging Junior. Whenever he napped on the floor he would always wake up cranky.

“Caboose wake the fuck up!” She throws the closest piece of epsilon at him. He wakes up with a jolt.

“Xylophone!”

Tucker takes his hand and leads him to his bunk, she’s more tired than she realizes because she ends up tucking him in. Junior’d fucking ruined her for that kind of sentimental mommy crap. She snaps out of it when he asks for a glass of water.

Tucker shuts him down and climbs into her own bunk. When she wraps herself up in the blanket she dries her hair off a bit before finally getting some sleep.

No sign of Wash, maybe he left.

Fuck.

 

* * *

 

The next morning she woke up to Caboose poking her cheek, “Tuuuucker. Tucker. _Tucker_. Tucker-” She grabs his finger and blearily considers telling him this is all a bad dream.

“Yes Caboose?” It’s not worth it, he’d get confused and then she’d already be awake.

“I’m hungry.”

Tucker rolls her eyes, God he always catches her when she’s tired _stupid_. She’d gotten used to weird feeding schedules with Junior so she’s learned to slap breakfast together half asleep. She sat herself up and waved him away.

“Gimme a minute, I need clothes.” Caboose nodded, somehow already in full armour.

“Ok.”  
He stomps off In his own weirdly jolly way and she’s amazed he didn’t wake her up with that racket. Tucker reaches under her pillow, she was pretty exhausted last night but she remembered to grab morning clothes when she was dodging epsilon parts on the floor last night. Tucker hauls on her favourite big t-shirt. She grabbed it off a guy she fucked. It was far too good for him.

An authentic ABBA concert T-shirt. It was the least the guy could do after such a lousy night. No communication, no consideration, plus the boat wasn't big, and the motion of the ocean wasn't particularly...rhythmic; a 2/10 at kindest. She rolls her shoulders entering the kitchen trying to shake off the memory. Caboose is already sitting at the table colouring with his emergency crayons. Tucker takes a quick look through the fridge. Nothing fresh but there’s enough to work with for a half way edible breakfast.

A shit ton of M.R.E.’s, some powdered eggs, powdered milk packets, and some not-butter brand butter. She’s done more with less. She hums a little as she gets breakfast started.

“ _Another_ _one_ _bites_ _the_ _dust_.”

She starts whipping together the powdered eggs into something edible, and tears apart a few MRE’s to see if she can somehow turn them into pancakes.

“ _And_ _another_ _one_ _down_ , _and_ _another_ _one_ _down-_ ”

“Tucker?”

“Caboose I agreed to feed you, I do not take requests. You either eat it or leave it.” She turns on a burner, places a pan on it and pours a light splash of olive oil on it.

“Oh, oh no, I just think you need to make another plate.”

She looks up and sees Wash shifting awkwardly at the doorway of the kitchen. Somehow he’s already in his armour too, Tucker idly wonders if it’s a guy thing.

She’s getting the impression he’s still feeling a bit weird about last night so she’s better off just letting him squirm. Not her problem, they _could’ve_ had awesome shower sex last night. He wants to pout now, it’s not her problem.

“Morning.” She rotates her shoulder once and goes back to breakfast.

He hangs there for a while as she cooks. Caboose waves at him like a five year old, “Hey Church!” Tucker could try to explain it again, but it’s just another one of those things that’s harder to explain then letting him keep getting it wrong.

“Caboose I’m not-”

“Sit next to me Church! It’s breakfast time!”

The eggs don’t really want to scramble but after she puts the cinnamon they get half way to edible. She grabs a bowl and mixes up what she’s not sure she wants to call pancake batter, but may end up taking credit for if they turn out ok.

Wash seems to just notice breakfast for the first time, he slowly brings himself over to the counter, “ Pancakes?“ He takes off his helmet, and just stares at the grill.

“Don’t call them pancakes yet.”

And then she dusts in a bit of cinnamon on the batter.

“So, you cook?” He raps his fingers against the counter. It’s awkward and slow, but also somehow it’s got this weird frantic energy.

“Moms are very good at breakfast. Tucker is getting better.”

If she pours out the pancakes small enough they should each get three. She roots through the cupboards a bit and tries to find something they could use for syrup.

“What?”

He still sounds like a fucking mess, like he can only just barely hear every other word of Caboose’s nonsense. Tucker grabs the fake butter from the cupboards. She checks back in on the pancakes, they’re cooking fast. She flips them and by the time she grabs a couple of juice packets in the fridge they’re already done. Wash hurriedly takes a seat at the table next to Caboose, Tucker plops down breakfast in front of them. She makes her own plate and decides she'll eat in the kitchen just to have easy access to the trash in case it sucks.

“Tucker. She used to be terrible at breakfast. Like-like she didn’t even always show up-”

Moment of truth.

She got a mouthful into her share of the scrambled eggs. She normally tried not to slam her own cooking but powdered eggs were never gonna be as good as the real deal. The pancakes turned out fine, just not what she'd like them to be. Nothing she'd want to serve Junior.

She looked over to Wash to see If he’d tried any yet but apparently he’s been staring at her. She maintains eye contact a second too long because _now_ suddenly he’s all fascinated by his eggs.

“And then Church would have to go yell at her for holding up breakfast…”

Caboose was talking through his mouthfuls of scrambled eggs and slathering the almost pancakes with fake-butter. Tucker decides she can stomach breakfast, she pointedly shields her plate from Caboose’s flying spittle,  as she loops around to sit next to Wash away from Caboose. Let him be in the splash zone.

“Sometimes It took forever.”

Pancakes weren’t bad. Considering, she’s a bit surprised actually, she wasn’t even totally sure that the white powder was flour.

“And whenever it was her turn to make breakfast she just made cereal-”

Wash was now trying his damndest to stare without actually staring at her as he scarfed down half his pancakes in one go.

“But then she had the baby and then breakfast got so much _better_.”

She’d be embarrassed to admit it out loud now, but her first impression of Wash on sidewinder had been this hot, dangerous, plays by his own rules kind of maverick.

Morning after, she sees juice shooting out his nose as he chokes up the breakfast she just made.

There goes that wet dream.

“Something wrong?”

Wash shakes his head, he holds up his free hand and reaches for his drink with the other. “M’fine. M’fine.” Tucker tries not to smirk and starts eating again. She starts thinking about when to drop the bomb about Junior being Sanghelli.

She decides to wait, he’s got enough to chew on right now.  
  


 

* * *

 

 

It’s a few days after that when Carolina shows up. She just sort of appears out of no where. Wash’s pretty much over the worst of his nerves about the shower incident. Or, has at least decided to never bring it up. Good enough for her.

She’s excited at first. Carolina’s this total bad-ass space amazon. She and Tex never really got close, she really only ever spoke to Church. Not that they really stood a chance at being friends after she’d gotten into Church’s pants.

She was kind of hoping to make friends with Carolina. They both wore the same colour armour, both military, both spent most of their time with dumb guys. And to be honest It’s been a while since she’s had a girlfriend to spend time with.

Carolina makes it pretty clear right away that she doesn’t have _time_ for Tucker’s nonsense. Any attempt to make nice, or ask about her life, or even like, a minute to get Tucker’s name right. Nonsense.

Tucker tries not let It get to her, but Carolina’s monopolizing all of Church’s time, and Wash’s, the reds are off screwing around and Caboose just wanders over to whatever seems like the most fun at any given time.

She hasn’t seen Junior since she forced him onto the shuttle that day C.T. attacked the temple. She still remembers the scared cries he let out as the nanny hauled him in the ship.It’s bullshit. It’s lonely. And she’s more than ready to just be fucking done with this.

She didn’t really imagine Carolina to be a sleepovers and mud masks kind of girl anyways. But hell, she had Donut for that when she was really hard up.

 

* * *

 

 

“This is bullshit!”

“ _Tucker_!”

Screw Carolina. Screw Wash. Screw Church. Screw this. She hasn’t seen Junior in months. And what? Carolina’s just gonna throw them into the line of fire so she can work out her repressed daddy issues? She may not know Carolina well, but she _knows_ repressed daddy issues.

She has her own family. Grif’s the first to say it, but the reds piss Carolina off even harder by walking off with him. Tucker’s just the sucker who’s last to say no when Carolina’s temper’s reached a fever pitch.

The gun in her face makes her heart skip a beat for just half a second.

She has her gun, but she knows she Isn’t going to shoot faster than Carolina is. It’s just half a second, it’s before she can even look at Church. Not like she really should have thought he’d care.

But Wash pulls a gun on Carolina before the second’s up.

“ _Don’t_. Do that.”

In that moment, she totally forgives him for walking in on her and then _not_ having sex with her. It’s crazy hot for a second. Then Church pours ice water all over the mood by throwing his fifty foot tantrum. He was always bitchy, but that tantrum was different.

It’s like, he was actually trying to scare them.

Walking off with Wash and Caboose was a little more difficult than she wanted to admit to herself. Church was being the jerk, she didn’t have anything to be sorry about. But that little voice in her head telling her she should look back?

It just makes her need to look forward even more.


	2. Junior starts a riot and Wash Blushes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first chapter was just posted yesterday and I’ve already gotten two comments! It’s really appreciated! Thanks so much! This chapter was a lot of fun to write! Tucker and Wash start to get closer!

“Hey, are you ok?” She can’t put her finger on how he’s different. But he’s different. He’s not sad, or angry or anything, but there’s like, some shit that’s not weighing him down anymore.

“Are you?” He shrugs, and sits down with her at the top of their base. Church would sit with her on the roof sometimes. They’d throw rocks Caboose would collect for him at a hole they dug. Whoever got the most in won, the game ended when the hole was full. Tucker beat him every single time.

It drove him nuts.

“Not really.” Church was always an asshole, but at least before he was Blue team’s asshole. Now he and Carolina are off acting out the bloodiest parts of Kill Bill and Tucker _still_ hasn’t been able to talk to Junior yet.

The bases could barely get a signal to Vick, how the hell is she supposed to get a line to the embassy? She used to tuck Junior in every night, now he doesn’t even know she’s ok. What if he’s scared or something?  
  
She hasn’t felt this helpless since she was pregnant with him in the first place, and now there’s no Church telling her blue team’s got her back.

Turned out to be bull anyway, what did she care?

So If she could feel little pricks of tears at the corners of her eyes? Then whatever, she was wearing her helmet, It’s not like anyone could see.

“So you have a kid?” She just looks at him for a minute. Since when does he small talk?

“Yeah, his name’s Junior.” She doesn’t look him in the eye, but her hand goes over that place where she keeps his picture at her waist.

“How old?”

“He’s gonna be six in a few months.” If she thinks about missing his birthday she might actually start crying.

“So he um…” Now, suddenly he seems all awkward, he was watching her before but now he’s all focused on the hill. “He must live with his Dad?”

She shakes her head. She thinks about telling him Junior lives at the Sanghelli Embassy because he’s basically alien Jesus, but decides to leave it for later. She’s in too miserable a mood to enjoy the freak out he’s gonna have.

Besides, it’s nice to think he’s picturing Junior as the sweet little kid he is.

“No. He’s got a Nanny. Junior’s dad died before he was born.”

Any trace of awkwardness just seems to blow out of him in one breathe. Suddenly it’s like the hill, and the grass, and the base all don’t exist and the only thing that’s there to Wash is her.

“Tucker, I’m so sorry.” He says it like he’s at the fucking wake.

She tries not to feel bad for giving him the wrong idea. Junior _does_ have a Nanny. A Sanghelli ex-elite that’s a hundred and thirty years old, he teaches him how to sword fight on weekends.

“Don’t worry about it. We didn’t exactly know each other well.” Crunch-bite had always creeped her out. She tries not to think about him too much. She has no idea what she’s gonna say if Junior ever asks about him.

“Is it hard? On your own I mean?”

“Is it hard?”

“Oh dear god no.”

“Well if you want me to make sure for you, you’re gonna need to take off that cod piece-“

“ _Tucker_!”

“Bow-chika-bow-wow.” And suddenly, she realizes she’s grinning. How’d he fucking _do_ that?

“I’m being serious!” Oh, there is no way In hell she’s going to drop the first good mood she’s had in months just so she could help Wash “Be serious”. She rolls her eyes,

“Yeah man, when a guy’s talking about his dick it’s _always_ life and death.” She’d kill to have him take his helmet off, she wants to see if he’s blushing.

“I hate you.”

“Then I don’t know why you want me taking a second look at lil’ Wash. I was impressed enough the first time ok?”

Truthfully, she didn’t get all that great a look. He was trying to respect her too fast for her to check out anything other than his ass.

“ _I_ _wasn’t_ \- _You_ _know_ \- _I_ _would_ _never_ -“ He pauses and takes off his helmet, he’s looking at her like she grew a second head,

“Are you _laughing_?!”

He’s blushing, It’s all pink and sweet like he’s five and his aunt kissed him in front of his friends for the first time. His voice Is even all high and squeaky like it was in the shower.

She takes off her helmet and the only thing she’ll do to nurse his ego right now is cover her mouth a bit. But she’s pretty sure she’s laughing at him just as hard with her eyes.

He just watches her laugh at him for a minute, he’s got this indignant pout, like being a freelancer should mean she can’t make fun of him. If it was church, no question, he’d be so mad there’d be smoke out of his ears and he’d be storming off by now. Wash just seems like he’s trying and failing to come up with some kind of come back.  
  
“So… you’re ok?”

That takes her for a loop. She’s not sure what to say, or where the hell that came from.

“Huh?”  
  
“You’re ok?” He insists, he’s zeroed in on her again, and Tucker still can’t get what the hell he means by that. Was he asking like- about Church or-

“About… what happened that night.” There’s this guilty look on his face that she has no idea what to do with, “When I walked in on you? You’re ok?” Then his face goes from pink to like, tomato red, his voice is all low and soft, his shoulders are rigid, he can’t look her In the eye-

then she clues in.

Oh.

Oh god.

He thinks he like- _shamed_ her, or something.

Like she’s hurt or embarrassed or like what? Wronged? By him accidentally thinking they could shower together in the communal showers? Like they probably could’ve ended up doing if she hadn’t tried to get him to have shower sex with her?

“Dude, I was fine like twenty seconds after you bolted.” She says it as blatantly as she can. There is too much going on to be worrying about crap like that.  
  
She expects him to like… respond. Or something. Tell her he’s glad she’s ok. Or let her know he didn’t mean it again. Or maybe blink once or twice. But he just sits there.

Not blinking, not talking, not moving, in any way at all, she’s pretty sure he isn’t even breathing.

It’s a long thirty seconds, she just sits there and waits for him to say something. When he finally does it’s the most confused, weak little sound she’d ever heard from him.

“What?”

She swears he wants to cry a little bit. He’s sounds so perfectly lost.

“Well, yeah. What’d you think? I was mad all this time-“

Wait. Holy shit yes he did.

“You thought I was mad at you?” She has to repeat it because it sounds so fucking ridiculous she’s starting to feel bad for him.

“Why? Cause you saw me naked? Big whoop, I saw you-” Ok Tucker that probably won’t help his dignity, “-I mean _lots_ of people have seen me naked.” She tries awkwardly to change course. “Dude if I was mad at you; I’d fucking let you know.”

Poor guy’s got his hands on his knees and he’s slowly dropping his head between his arms. Then he shifts his hands to his head and she can see him pressing real hard.

“Tucker?”

“Yeah man?”

“I’m mad at you.”

She smiles at him.

“ _I_ can tell.”

 

* * *

 

 

Eventually they decide to help Church even though he’s being a huge dick. She gets on board surprisingly easy. Wash tries to talk them out of it, and she gets why, but even if he’s an asshole-and no one’s saying he Isn’t- He’s still blue team. Despite everything, she wants to have his back the way he said he’d have hers.

For some reason she gets to fly one of the ships they steal. Wash takes the next one, Grif gets the last.

Wash keeps explaining the controls to her as he figures them out himself. Which is about the same speed as Tucker gets it so it’s deeply unhelpful. She’s piloting a military plane for the first time in her life. She doesn’t need to be mansplained to on top of it.

“Wash! Shut the fuck up already! I got it!”

 

* * *

 

So it turns out they have to fight a robot army. Which wouldn’t be so bad if they weren’t all also somehow Tex. Tucker hasn’t had that nightmare since blood gulch when Tex found out she fucked Church. They totally pull It off though, Church pulls a deus ex break up from out of his butt and then pretty much tells them to wait at the door as he and Carolina go execute her Dad.

Sarge is telling his glorious rendition of “The Battle of Texas”, already grossly exaggerating it to the people who just lived It. Simmons keeps trying to up his part in Sarge’s story like it’ll get him promoted or some bull. Grif’s so disgusted with them both he keeps faking snoring sounds to bother them-or he could actually be asleep on his feet.

Caboose and Donut seem to have paired off to set the world record for the least self-aware conversation of all time. She walks away to tune it out, she values her time. Enough of that crap.

She needs new friends.

Not that they’re really her friends.

Tucker leans against the wall, she’s glad Church admitted he was an asshole and everything but honestly? She’s done with this. She needs to talk to her kid. Bad. She’s tired, and she can tell the fight’s gonna make her sore as fuck in the morning, and without any of the fun parts of getting that sore.

She just wants to see her fucking kid. She’s rubbing her eyes through her glove and her helmet’s tucked between her free arm and waist.

“Hey.” She looks up. It’s Wash.

“Hey. So, you’re a freelancer. This what you guys did all day? Fight Tex bots and steal stuff from the UNSC?”  
  
He looks like he thinking for a minute and then his helmet tilts down sadly.

“All that and no overtime?"

“Y’know I’ve never met anyone who could make me want to kill myself so easily.”

“Whoa dude, don’t jump.”

That gets a light chortle out of him, she decides to push her luck, “You want a hug or something?” She thinks if she gets him close enough she might be able to goose him before he can stop her.

“No.” His answer’s immediate, “I do not.”

“Dude. It’s a hug.”

“It’s you. It’s a trap.” He’s so certain of it. Like he’s proud of himself for not falling for it.  
  
“It’s a trap?” She’s giving him a look that lets him know exactly how ridiculous he sounds. Just because he’s onto her doesn’t mean he’s not paranoid.

“Yes it Is. It’s a trap, and for once. I’m not falling for It.”

“Wash. _You_ walked in on _me_.”

“ _Idon’twanttotalkaboutthatTucker_!” He tries so hard to keep his pitchy voice into a whisper.

“Talk about what?” Oh hey. Church and Carolina are back. Church has his little AI arms crossed with all the attitude of the full sized Church. Compacted like ant-man’s tiny person super strength.

“Nothing.” Too quick Wash. Too quick to be believable. Church immediately turns to Tucker with this unsurprised sour look,

“You fucked him.”

Not a question, just a bitchy statement. Wash splutters for a moment and Tucker puts her hands on her hips. Church keeps going, “Right, what else were you gonna do? We left you guys alone for a whole half a day.”

“Hey fuck you man! We saved your ungrateful ass back there.”

“Oh please. I had the whole thing under control.”

“Bitch please. “ _The_ _capacity_ _for_ _all_ _rational_ _thought_?”  
  
“Wha-How long were you watching us?!”

“Dude we heard you down the corridors! How’d you think we find you?”

“Oh? so now suddenly _you’re_ complaining about being too loud!?”

“Church. I think we both know if you wanna go there I’ve got more bullets in that chamber than you.”

“…”

“…”

“Right! So. Cheesy forgiveness speech anyone!?” He’s clapping his little AI hands and looking around desperately for anyone to give him an out of this conversation. Wash looks between them, once, then again and again a third time.

Carolina gives Church this slow questioning head tilt.

“Please?!” He lets off a very loud plea to anyone listening.

One of the people listening was Caboose.

“Church!!!”

“Oh fuck!”

 

* * *

 

 

They end up getting medals for some reason. No matter what the news line says, the colourful space warriors didn’t actually do that much. Just helped an old man kill himself and tell the UNSC where they left the body.

When she enlisted, she thought she’d be be a bad ass space warrior, now she’s just so fucking done with everything to do with being a badass. Project Freelancer’s made it clear, it’s not worth the effort. She finds out about like the one bonus from it all when she hears a loud Sanghelli call out from behind her as they’re exiting stage left from their medal ceremony.

 _No_.

 _No_. _Fucking_. _Way_.

She turns around just in time to get charged by a Sanghelli about a foot taller than her, and he _should_ _not_ _be_ _that_ _big yet,_ because she swears she couldn’t have been away that long that Junior got almost a half foot taller without her knowing.

She lets out the happiest shriek of her life and wraps her arms around his neck. She can hear people yelling vaguely around them. Wash is practically screeching her name. She couldn’t care less. She truly couldn’t. Junior lifts her up and spins her around like _she’s_ the little kid, then hauls her in for a tight hug. he lets out the happiest honk she’s ever heard right in her ear.

Now she’s fucking crying. Oh God she’s acting like she thought she’d never see him again. He lets her back on her feet and she pulls back enough to get a good look at him. He’s so fucking _cute_ , and he looks like he’s eating snack cakes after bed-time again. She knows because she can see the cream on his armour and _it’s_ _way_ _past_ _his_ _bedtime_ -

“Tucker! Get that little monster of yours to tell his buddies to STAND THE FUCK DOWN!”

“ _Little!?!”_

She tears her eyes away from Junior enough to look around her. Her eyes are still a bit blurry from the tears.

There are several different reactions playing out around her.

Apparently when people saw a Sanghelli rushing one of the colourful space marines most of them opted to run screaming. Typical. Then there’s security which seems to have thought drawing their weapons was a cool idea but apparently Junior brought his entourage.

A squad of highly trained Sanghelli elite that were way quicker on the draw then the guys who didn’t know they were there. Sanghelli camouflage. Now they’re holding up basically the entire security staff like they wanna start _another_ stupid war.

Then there are the guys. She sees Grif on his ass and assumes Junior knocked him out of the way to get to her. Simmons is crouched over him like Junior fucking shot him. Sarge is yelling at an elite who keeps hauling on his shot gun that keeps honking at him to “ _Cease_ _resistance_ ”. Donut has his hands up like he’s busted, Caboose, -defying all logic-is the only one who seems to get what’s happening.

“Junior!” He cries out as thrilled as a five year old getting a cookie. He opens his arms dropping his gun causing it to go off and shoot one of the UNSC security guards in the foot. “Oops.”

“ _JUNIOR_!?!” It’s Wash. It’s Wash who’s screeching Junior’s name. She didn’t tell him. Whatever he knows now.

The freelancers both somehow magically have guns-No. Those are Sanghelli weapons and two of Junior’s guard are flat on their backs. They stole the guns and now they’re both for some reason still _aiming_ _them_ _at_ _her_ _son_.

Church of all people, has put himself between Junior and Wash’s gun. It would almost be touching if he wasn’t a hologram and it wouldn’t do jack shit. Carolina seems to have already tried shooting but her gun’s jammed. She would wonder how that happened, but there isn’t time.

She whistles loud and sharp, there’s a half breathe where she knows the expression on Wash’s face without looking. That exasperated, freaked little way his eyes bug out when he thinks she’s crazy. But while he’s panicking, every alien in the room looks up, including the really old one that shouldn’t be letting Junior stay up this late.

She calls them off with a hand signal. They all disappear using camouflage In the space of one breathe. They’re Junior’s guards but she’s made it very clear who they actually work for.

It’s just good parenting to make sure Junior doesn’t talk them into staging a coup whenever he gets a time out.

“What. The. hell?!” Simmons’ shrieks over Grif. She takes off her helmet looking over, Grif’s pouty because he has to put in the extra effort to get off his ass. The rest of the guys are looking at her like she’s just NOW gotten cool enough to have an Sanghelli squad at her beck and call. Tucker’s intentionally ignoring the looks from Wash and Carolina cause she’s pretty sure they’ve still got guns pointed at her kid.  
  
She makes a show out of taking his hand and holding it tight.

She leads Junior by the hand up to the stage and grabs the mic that fell on the ground. She was never exactly great at the ambassador stuff but she at least knew enough to talk her way out of diplomatic incidents. Mostly.

“Attention UNSC! Everything is fine! The Sanghelli are NOT attacking! No one is hurt-“

“I was shot!!!”

“The SANGHELLI didn’t shoot ANYONE!”

“Tucker did it!”

“Caboose _shut_ _the_ _fuck_ _up_! Everything’s cool! Just a little mix up!”

“BLARGH!” Junior agrees emphatically.

“Now say you’re sorry.”

“HONK!?”

“Junior.” She’s not going to tell him twice.  
  
“Honk!” He crossed his arms and his lower jaws get all trembly in that way that when he knows he’s in trouble but still thinks he’s right. God when was the last time the Sanghelli yelled at him for something? He’s getting spoiled.

“I missed you too.” She starts patiently being sure to move the mic away, he’s pouting but he turns his head up a bit at that.

“Blargh?”

“Of course I did! I love you.” She’s more than a little disappointed he thinks she could just fuck off and forget about him, but five year olds tend to get lonely quick, “But they’re _your_ guards, they were trying to protect _you_. You have to take responsibility for them.”

Junior pouts for a little longer than lets out a quiet little,

“Honk.”

Just like that, like he couldn’t mean it less If he tried.

“Junior!” She’s getting more than a little fed up with his attitude. He throws his hands up,

“Blargh! HONK!” She nods. He’s sorry, he doesn’t wanna be, but he is. She almost decides he needs a time out then and there but he’s getting to that age, so she won’t push it any further. Today.

Then the nanny reappears behind her and she hears another gun cock.

Tucker immediately holds up a finger for one minute to the Nanny to get him to wait his turn. She then turns to figure out which one of the guys is trying to start a war.

And it’s Wash. Not her first guess. She was betting on Sarge.  
  
“Dude. We’re fine. This is the Nanny.”

“The Nanny?”

“ _My_ _name_ _is_ _Dare_   _‘Saham_.”

It comes out in this deep gravelly tone. Dare is a pretty heavy smoker although whenever she hears Sanghelli speak english it always sounds different to her. It’s like they’re all trying to sound like Batman.

“ _I_ _am_ _in_ _charge_ _of_ _security_ _for_ _Lady_ _Verna’s_ _family_.”

“ _Lady_ Verna?” Crap. Church was never gonna shut up about this. She flips him the bird without dropping eye contact with Dare. Just to make sure he knows she’s paying attention.

They had a talk early on about what to call her. Explaining gender took a while, and after that, he was so bothered he might’ve offended her he started calling her _lady_.

She tried a few times to talk him out of it, but it was either that or this full long title every time that apparently the chosen one gets. She couldn’t pronounce half those syllables.

She did get him to call her by her first name, Laverna. She even got him to shorten it to Verna like people called her as a kid. She normally prefers Tucker but apparently using her last name implies a formality that means including a changing of the guard ceremony at bed time. So fuck It.

So it’s kind of like a nickname. It’s still a little embarrassing though.

_“Lady Verna, does your unit member intend to shoot?”_

She looks over at Wash, he’s gone full freelancer mode. Posture sharply in shooting position, if she looks hard enough she can see his eyes through the visor. He’d pull the trigger.

She holds up both her hands, “Wash. We’re fine. Really. Dare’s my friend.”

“Tucker! It’s not-”

Dare turns to him and Wash goes silent. Tucker’s the only one who could tell but she swears he looks downright amused, _“I shouldn’t need to tell you freelancer, that if you were to shoot me, my men would shoot you in retaliation.”_  He looks at Tucker briefly then turns back to Wash,

“ _Then who would be left for her?_ ”

There’s a moment.

There’s a moment with this uncomfortable _thing_ in the air, she looks to Wash and she sees him running tactics in his head. He’s acting like he’s being told to surrender, but the war’s been over for a while. This is just pushing a very new, very easily breakable peace.

Wash slowly lowers the gun.

Then it gets yanked out of his hands by an invisible force and disappears forever. Carolina follows his lead giving her own stolen gun away while giving Dare the evil eye. Dare looks at Wash appraisingly for a moment, like there’s something new to consider.

When he’s done he turns back to Tucker, giving her a very thorough looking up and down. He puts both hands at her shoulders squeezing firmly and slowly dragging his hands down along her arms.

“Hey!” Short bout of non aggression be damned, Wash pushes against an invisible force she knows is the Sanghelli who took back his gun. She waves him away to _knock_ _it_ _off_. Last thing she needs is one of the guards getting trigger happy and shooting him. She’s seen the Sanghelli do this a thousand times, he’s just checking to see if her sword arms are fine.

It’s like a way for Sanghelli to know that the person they’re checking on is well enough to defend themselves. He’s not feeling up her legs because he can see she’s standing,  _If you can stand, you can fight._ Dare eventually ends it by taking both her hands in his. He firmly grips her hands and then checks them for damage.

Despite the utter chaos around them, Wash nearly starting a war, and the embarrassing scene Dare’s making, she’ll admit at least to herself, it’s actually pretty nice to feel taken care of.

“ _It is good to see you unharmed._ ”

She feels pretty good to be unharmed.

They should probably get off the stage though.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment and/or kudos if you enjoyed it! Next chapter will be up soon!


	3. Caboose fights a vending machine & Junior slam dunks

They end up having to make a few calls to the embassy to sort it all out, but they’ve both got diplomatic immunity for stuff like this. It’s basically fine.

She can tell Junior’s exhausted by the time they’re done. She tells Dare to bring him back to the ship and get him in bed. When Junior starts to honk in protest she kisses him on the nose and promises that she’ll be there in time to tuck him in.

She just has to talk to the guys first.

They’re all crowded around a vending machine at the end of the hall, Grif’s kicking it over and over complaining about not getting his Cheetos, Simmons has his arms crossed with attitude,

“Grif! That’s not helping!”

“It ate my money Simmons! This thing is trying to scam me!”

“It’s just a machine!”

“ _You’re_ just a machine Tin man! This thing’s a _dead_ machine!” Grif turns to Caboose stepping away from the machine, “Caboose! This thing’s on blue team now!”

“Ok!” Caboose shoves his fist straight through the vending machine, shattering the plane of glass. He lost his gun privileges after he accidentally shot the UNSC guard, so yeah, he’d have to come up with something new.

Candy, chip bags, and sodas come gushing out of the machine, scattering all over the floor.

“Oh. My. Gosh!” Caboose takes off his helmet beaming like a toddler, “There are _Pop_ _Rocks_ in here you guys!” He immediately dumps as many as he can fit in his mouth. Then when he’s jaw locked they start snapping like fireworks. Caboose wails loudly and runs away with his head still tilted up.

Twenty minutes after they just got pardoned and Caboose’s already fucking it up. Figures.

Grif goes straight for the Cheetos, ripping open the bags and gobbling them up in fistfuls. All of a sudden the machine starts spewing out a bunch of coins, Tucker just assumes it’s trying to pay them off to save itself.

“Guys!” Simmons has his arms flailing wildly, desperately looking around hoping no one’s gonna pop out. “This is illegal! I’m pretty sure we’re robbing them! We can’t- _Oh_ _my_ _god_!” Simmons’ is kneeling down over the coins and picks out one, “That’s a 1914-S Lincoln Penny! How old is this machine!?”

“Nerd!”

“Shut up Grif! This penny’s only going up in value!”

“Grif! Simmons! Shut yer traps and pass over the beef jerky already!” Donut holds his hands up pleadingly,

“You _guys_! I’m just not sure we’re gonna get pardoned again! Maybe we should put this stuff back.” Grif tosses donut something with a disgusted flick of his wrist. Donut catches it on reflex.

“Kale chips?” Donut looks them over in hands, Grif gives a disgusted growl,

“That crap is _way_ too healthy.” Donut gets all choked up for a minute,

“ _Oh_ _Grif_ _!_  These are doc’s favourites! They went out of business!! Are there any more!?” Grif takes an armful with a disgusted huff,

“Here. Get them out of my sight.”

Tucker’s about to go crack a joke about how her badass invisible Sangheilli guards could be anywhere so they should give her all the Doritos. Then she hears foot steps from behind.

“We need to talk.”

It’s Wash. Of course it is, because who the fuck else would it be? He sounds like a Dad who’s about to ground his kid because he flunked a math test. She’s _used_ that tone before.

“That. Is a Huge. Understatement.” Carolina’s back. Yay. Church is on her shoulder, he’s not mad like the two of them but he clearly isn’t sticking up for her anytime soon. With an unnecessary heap of attitude he flicks up an incredulous hand,

“What the hell was all that back there?!”

She shrugs, “Seems pretty self explanatory to me.”

“Which part of that felt explained!?”, Carolina exclaims throwing her arms up.

“Which part of freelancer ever got explained!?”

Seriously, she’s known that Church was an AI for a while now, she was the first to figure out the Red vs Blue thing was a scam. Tucker just never got a clear reason for how or why this all got started.

Church’s getting frustrated, he’s getting that tone with her,“Tucker. Please. For the love of god. Why the fuck do you suddenly have a Sangheilli squad following you?”

“They’re not following me. They’re following Junior.” Wash jumps in at that,

“Your. Son. Who is an alien. Somehow.”

“Old news man.”

“Oh Wash.” Donut strolls over waving his hand with a flourish, he’s pulled out this pink tote bag from no where and has tightly packed in his kale chips, “Junior’s a _sweetheart_ , really. We spent oodles of time together back in the desert.” Junior loves Donut actually. He’s a pretty sweet guy, and Junior’s just young enough to find everything he says hysterical.

Wash flips around at Donut,

“You knew about this!?” Donut looks up from his bag cheerily,

“Of course I knew silly! We all knew! Tucker told red team all about her new job way back at the temple!”

Wash’s head whips around to red team,“Guys!?” Sarge’s chewing on beef jerky when he overhears them. He yells from down the hall.

“The little blue bastard _ate_ red team’s flag! Such an atrocity could NEVER be forgotten!! Or forgiven!”

“Yea! And my snack cake stash!”

“Grif Dagnabit! This is no time to compare a temporary pause in the constant flow of food to your worthless mouth to one of the most diabolical desecration of a flag in red team history!” Simmons calls out, eyes never leaving the penny in his hand,

“Just for the record. Donut’s not exaggerating! Everyone knew!”

Carolina crosses her arms incredulously, “Not. Everyone.”

“Church knew.”

They both turn on him, somehow peeved that the thing that wasn’t a secret was somehow kept from them. Church glares at her from inside his holographic helmet,

“Thanks Tucker.”

Wash tries again, “So you adopted him?” He’s blown through his temper, he’s just awkward now, he’s got this weirdly hopeful tone and she’s pretending she doesn’t hear it. It’s an unpleasant contrast to his shower voice.

“Nah man. I gave birth. Church knows, he was there.” Church holds up a hand in protest very eagerly,

“Ah! Ah! I want it on record. I was no where near the birthing of your little abomination of nature.”

“Ok, but you were like the third person to meet him-”

“Wait, that can’t be right. Caboose met him before I did. Doc got the little fucker out of you-” Wash’s head swings downs and he puts his hands on his hips. Did that fucker just gag?

“Dude, I was in the coma remember?” Ignoring Wash. Ignoring Wash.

“Oh fuck that’s right-”

“You were in a coma!?!” Wash spins on his heel, he watches her like she’s about to fall into little pieces.

Tucker groans looking up at the ceiling, fuck this isn’t going away without a long explanation. Tucker decides to screw it, then tries to get through the quickest version of “The birds and alien bees” as quick as she can.

 

* * *

 

 

Tucker really doesn’t have time for this. Junior’s waiting, but she gives them a generous, full minute to stare at her like she’s secretly Peter Pan. Carolina’s the first to start in on her when she’s done,

“ _You’re_  the Sangheilli Ambassador?” Tucker nods,

“Right.” she’s doesn’t get why it’s so hard, _Tucker’s_ not the one in aqua armour with the fucked up conspiracy theory around her family. Church gives her a look,

“Is this why you were the only one who didn’t get charged with anything?” Oh yeah, that was awesome. She shrugs coolly,

“Diplomatic privilege. The Sangheilli didn’t want me in jail, it could mess with Junior’s happy childhood.”

“What the fuck! You would’ve gotten a fucking pass this whole time!?!”

“Yeah man, sucks to be you.” Carolina throws her hands up like she’s the stupidest thing since Caboose.

“I don’t believe this-why didn’t you ever tell us?!”

“I tried! You got pissed!”  
  
“When the fuck did that happen!?”

“I _asked_ you if the UNSC knew what you were doing. You said no. I _asked_ if you wanted any help dealing with them because I had experience with that shit. Then I was _gonna_ tell you how, but then you got all furious, fired a warning shot and told me to “ _get_ _in_ _the_ _warthog_ , _we_ _have_ _to_ _get_ _that_ _damned_ _memory_ _unit_!”.

Tucker watches as Carolina slowly unfurl her arms, like she’s remembering the conversation but doesn’t want to admit it.

“Then you told me you didn’t want to see a picture of my kid! Which by the way-” Tucker decides that If they insist on doing this, she’ll finish it, “If someone helps you commit treason against the UNSC by stealing a memory unit and helps you take out your ex-boss. Your like- _obligated_ to take at _most_ two seconds to look at a fucking baby photo!”

Carolina doesn’t say a word, Tucker slowly feels a wave of dread pour through her directed from Carolina’s death glare, suddenly she wonders if _that_ was really the right hill to die on.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She turns to face Wash, he doesn’t sound angry, he’s not freaking out, he’s not…grossed out or anything. Wash actually sounds a little hurt, she looks away a minute,

“Well…” And Tucker starts to wonder _why_ exactly she never took the time. It’s weird to think she has to explain all this stuff. The guys have all known for years, Wash feels like he’s been with them since the beginning. She shrugs,

“I was gonna.”

His voice deadpans hard, his angry Dad voice rears back in full force, “You were gonna?”

“I was gonna.” She confirms, she’s standing by it. Wash through his hands up,

“When!? When? When were you gonna tell me!?”

“Didn’t think of it. Dude. Don’t look at me like that. Look we’ve talked about him maybe twice? The first time you were still all bugged out about-”

“ _Tucker_.”

She powers past that part, “And then the other time we were just shooting the breeze.” She shakes her head, this was fun, but it’s late, Junior’s waiting, “Alright look. Everyone’s caught up. I’ve gotta go.”

“Go?” Wash repeats, baffled.

“It’s _way_ past Junior’s bed time, I promised I’d tuck him in.” She shrugs, “We’re Tuckers. It’s a big deal. I’ll probably be back in an hour.” Tucker steps back and turns to go find a guard, but Wash grabs her wrist from behind.

“Wait-”

All at once they’re surrounded by half Junior’s security staff.

Guns all pointed at Wash.

There’s a very tense moment where the Sangheilli are waiting to see if they should fire. Dare should be with Junior, so she quickly looks around for Groze. He’s always in charge when Dare Isn’t there.

“ _Lady_ _Verna_. _Is_ _there_ _an_ _issue_?”

There he is. Right in front of her staring down Wash like he’s a bug to be squashed. She shakes her head, intentionally keeping her tone as calm as she can. No need to freak out the nine feet tall aliens.

“It’s fine. We’re cool. We’re all friends here.” He hasn’t dropped eye contact with Wash, who is not being any more helpful, he’s poised like he’s about to wrestle Groze to the ground. Because apparently he’s somehow become bullet proof in the last twenty minutes.

“ _Then_ _if_ _you_ _are_ _truly_ _done_ _as_ _you_ _said_. _We_ _will_ _escort_ _you_ _to_ _your_ _son_. _Please_ _inform_ _your_ … _friend_ _to_ _refrain_ _from_ _touching_ _you_. _Or_ _I_ _will_ _order_ _the_ _guards_ _to_ _destroy_ _him_.” Ah. She forgot, Groze was an asshole.

“Some friend you are.”

Wash’s voice is low and dangerous, she’s not used to it, she doesn’t want to be. Tucker turns and sees Wash still hasn’t let go of her wrist. “Wash. They’re cool. Really.” He tears his eyes away from Groze long enough to give her this grave look.

“Tucker I’m not sure-”

“Trust me.”

There’s an odd thing in the air hanging between the two of them. She’s never asked for him to trust her and he’s never exactly trusted her before. So whatever happens next from here could either be deeply familiar or totally uncharted territory.

He very slowly lets go of her.

The second after he does Groze puts both of his hands on her shoulders and securely pulls her a step closer to him then Wash.

Wash balks at the contact. Now It’s either because he just said he’d trust her or that he suddenly cares about the half dozen guns trained on him but he doesn’t do anything to stop it.

He does watch every single inch of Groze’s hands moving along her arms. He’s a lot quicker about It than Dare, but Groze takes more time on her wrists.

“ _We_ _should_ _depart_ _Lady_ _Verna_. _Your_ _son_ _tires_.” He informs her holding her hands in his. Alright. Guess she knows why they’re here now. She nods,

“Sure. Let’s go.” She turns to say goodbye, but the Sangheilli are all sort of circling her now, she gets hidden behind the rear guard and Groze puts a hand on her back to get her moving.

Before the guards get in the way she catches Carolina planting a firm hand on Wash’s shoulder, she’ holding him back. Tucker swears Wash calls out for her but the Sangheilli move with purpose.

They cloak up around her, it’s a form of camouflage that blocks her from sight. Sangheilli do it for their kids, before they figure out it for themselves.

Tucker forgot how twitchy they get around humans, it’d been a while since they’d treated her like that.

 

* * *

 

The walk back to the ship is awkward. The Sangheilli do not let up on their turtle formation. Their shuttle isn’t that far. She looks over at Groze,

“So…Did you miss me?”

“ _No_.” Ah. Same old Groze, she thinks for a minute and feels a lump in her throat,

“Has Junior been ok? Like, was he scared?” She handed him off to Groze when the emergency shuttle came to get them out. She’s not normally the “Sacrifice for the mission” girl. But she was the only one with the key to lock down the temple.

They lost two of Junior’s guards that day. It was really scary for him.

“ _The little one worried ceaselessly for your safety_. _I reassured him that you have the tenacity and resilience of a cockroach._ ”

She rolls his eyes. “Asshole.” She ducks her head a little, “Thanks.”

He keeps looking straight on, “ _I did not say it for your sake_.” He pauses, “ _You are welcome_.”

 

* * *

 

She doesn’t make it back that night.

Junior tackles her in a hug again the second she walks into his quarters. She tosses her armour off and swaps it out for a tank top and pyjama bottoms first chance she gets.

Tucker ends up not only tucking him in, but telling him a quick story and falling asleep with him in his bed. He curls around her like she's his teddy bear. She can’t remember the last time she slept so easy.  
  
She was a lot more wiped than she thought. She wakes up to him bouncing around his room the next morning. He’s gathering up all his favourite toys in the middle of the room for them to play with. It’s so stinking cute she can’t help but stay the rest of the morning.

It’s freakin’ awesome.

She gets to make him breakfast with actual _fresh_ ingredients. As she whips up a batch of pancakes with chocolate chips and marshmallows. As she mixes ingredients Junior pokes his head up from behind the counter. Only his eyes are above counter, which means he’s trying to spy on her.

Oh dear lord. He’s so _cute_ , how did she go so long without those eyes? Tucker smiles warmly at him, “You want something baby?” Junior nods eagerly, drops back down out of her sight, then pops back up and plops a box labeled _Junior’s_ _Pictures_ in front of her.

One of his very first toys ever was this ancient camera that somehow wasn’t also a phone. Junior would take pictures of everything back then. Every temple, wasteland, or y’know the giant Embassy that kept insisting “ _No_ _flash_ _photography_!” was his tourist trap.

Tucker’s kicking herself for it but she missed his birthday. She was expecting him to be heartbroken but instead, Junior’s a tiny champion about it.

Junior lent Dare his camera for his birthday to take pictures for Tucker when she got back. As Junior proudly shows off his pictures of Sanghelli elite in party hats, she swallows back the lump in her throat and tries not to cry. It should be so much easier than this not to ruin the morning.

As they eat, Junior tells her all about the new friends he’s making at school. There’s this punk named Mitch that tried to make fun of him for being too _tall_. He says he told him that Sangheilli only get taller when they're smarter than the person they're standing next to.

She puts whipped cream on his pancakes and tells him how proud she is he knows how to stand up for himself. It wasn’t all that long ago he would’ve had Groze settle it for him.  
  
After breakfast they play with the new game station Junior apparently guilted the Dare into getting it for him. Dare, in his heart of hearts, is the grandpa who secretly gives their grandkids money when the parent’s out of eyesight. She makes a vow to pay him back when she can.

When Junior thrashes her at Mario karts for the third time in a row -the little punk cheats- he runs off to the pile of toys. Tucker’s stretching out her gaming fingers when Junior comes back with a basketball in his hands,

“Blargh?”

Tucker laughs and nods, “Sure thing little man. But watch out, I’m a lot better at basketball.” Junior honks loudly at her trying to get her moving, and the second she’s on her feet Junior runs off to the ship’s cargo hold. Tucker runs after him swerving around one or two elite in the process.

Dare’s already got a hoop set up for them. When the two of them were traveling together, Tucker carried around this old metal ring and just nailed it to whatever was tall enough. This time, it’s screwed into one of the high bulkheads.

Junior’s hopping up and down with the ball, honking at her with childish impatience. Junior wants to show off for Tucker _so_ _bad_ it’s-oh my god he can dunk now. Oh my god _he’s_ _dunking!_

Tucker watches in awe as Junior dribbles the ball, rushes up to the hoop and _dunks_ _it_ _again_. Junior hops up and down honking victoriously, then whips around to see her,

“Blargh?! Blargh!?”

“Of course I saw baby! When did you learn that!?”

“Blargh! Blargh!”

Tucker’s in shooting range of the hoop now, Junior’s standing tall, hands on his hips like a superhero beaming with pride like he’s the next Michael Jordan.

Tucker gets an idea, winks at him then snatches the ball from the ground. Junior rushes to block her, but when she turns away from the hoop he doesn’t know what to do. Tucker throws it backwards from over her shoulder.

She hears a _swish_ and Junior’s little “Blargh!?” Of astonishment.

After her own superhero pose, they have an intense pre-game stare down. Then there’s a mad dash for the ball. They spend most of the morning showing off for each other.

Dare checks in on them periodically. Sometimes she used to be able to talk him into hanging out with them. Basketball was pretty foreign to the older Sanghelli so Junior would proudly boss Dare around about the rules.

Today he makes it clear she has Junior all to herself.

She’s getting old, she must be, after their third game she needs to take a load off. She plants it on the nearest crate, not planning on getting up for a _while_. Junior’s still raring to go, so she tells him to go get his water gun and see if he can tag Groze. Junior doesn’t need to be told twice. He trips up twice on his way back to his quarters, doesn’t slow him down for a second.

“ _He has not been so happy in months_.” Dare uncloaks from behind her, placing a water bottle next to her filled with ice. God she’s missed Dare.

“I know the feeling.” Tucker unscrews the top and greedily drinks as much of it as she can in one go,

Tucker tries not to get melodramatic and ruin the day. But God she was away so _much longer_  than she thought she would be. Dare’s gravelly voice gets as soft as she’s ever heard it,

“ _We searched for you Lady Verna. We could not follow you down your path without risking your son’s safety_.” Dare stops for a minute, Like he’s having trouble finding the words, “ _I_... _deemed it an unacceptable risk._ ”

She nods, and without a trace of blame tells him,

“I know. That’s why I hired you.” Dare looks to her sadly, and she smiles reassuringly back.

They sit in a companionable silence as Tucker gets her second wind. When they hear the trademarked outraged cry from Groze, and Junior’s happy little victory “Blargh!” they break out in a laugh.

 

* * *

 

 

She’s just about got everything she needs to make him pizza for their lunch when she hears Junior’s cry for help.

  
“Honk!” She spots him by her pile of armour, Junior’s got his head stuck in her helmet. He’s tugging with all his strength but it just doesn’t fit him. Tucker has no idea how he got it on. It’s hard not to think of Winnie the Poo with a honey pot on his head.

She hadn’t bothered to wear her armour all day. Junior had some of her clothes packed with his things on the ship. It was crazy thoughtful and everything but her son had absolutely no sense of style. he always picked the funniest looking clothes she had. Right now she’s wearing the tie-die t-shirt she bought ironically and bedazzled jean shorts she bought once when she was drunk.

She’s starting to think he’s doing it on purpose.

She laughs and Junior honks loudly in indignant protest. “I’m sorry little man but we’re not exactly the same size.” As she starts to haul it off she hears something from the helmet.

“ _Little. Monster. Thing! Can you get Tucker on the comms or not?!_ ”

“ _Church. Why do you keep calling it little!?_ ”

Church? Oh fuck. Tucker suddenly notices the thing was beeping. Crap. How long had that been happening?

“ _Blargh_! Blargh! Blargh! Blargh! Blargh! Blargh! Blargh! Blaaaargh!”

“ _What the fuck does that mean!?_ ”

“ _Church. This is hopeless, unless you suddenly speak Sangheilli we need to go find her_.”

Now she understands why Junior put her helmet on. She puts her foot on Junior’s shoulder to get more leverage.

“Guys! Everything’s cool! Don’t pull any bull shit!” Apparently they don’t catch It. Junior’s still yelling at them and he’s gonna throw a tantrum any minute.

“ _What!? Wash, did you see the alien death squad last night? We JUST dodged a life time prion sentence. What? You wanna pull off an international incident just to see if they meant it!?_ ”

“ _Well!? What do you expect us to do!?_ ”

“ _I thought you didn’t want to go back to prison!_ ”

Got it! She snaps her helmet back on.

“Wash? Church?”

“ _Tucker! Are you ok? Where are you?_ ”

“ _Jesus Christ Wash. What is it? Just because you two fucked suddenly now you’re her-_ ”

She hears a gun shot go off.

“ _Hologram remember? Wasted your bullet_.” Two seconds in, and they’re already more concerned about being pricks than her. Rich.

“Guys. Seriously. I’m ok. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Blargh!”

“Junior says hi.”

“ _Tucker. Where. Are.You?_ ” Now he’s all mad. Great.

“I’m in Junior’s ship.”

“ _Tucker there’s no Sangheilli ship anywhere!_   _Did you take off? Are you in orbit_?”

“They’re Sangheilli. It’s cloaked.”

“Blargh!” Junior’s pleading and tugging on her arm, he’s even breaking out the big puppy eyes on her. Suddenly her chest sinks like a pit from guilt. This is the first day they’ve been together in months, and she’s making it look like she’s already bailing on him.

“Look guys, I’ll talk to you later. I’m about to make lunch.”

“ _Tucker are you kidding me!? You get abducted by aliens and you wanna make them lunch!?_ ”

“I’m making my _kid_ lunch! The guards don’t like pizza!”

“ _TUCKER_!”

“ _Hi_ _Tucker_!”

“ _Caboose?! How long have you been on the comms?!_ ”

“ _Oh, since about BLARGH! Blargh Blargh blargghh!_ ”

“Honk!”

“I know right? He does an awful impression of you.”

“ _Tucker you’re making pizza? Where?_ ”

“ _Grif?! Why the fuck are you on this channel!?!_ ”

“ _Shut it Church! I heard pizza. Tucker. Tucker, is that true?_ ”

“You’re not invited Grif. I’m spending quality time with my son.”

“ _What!? The first pizza we’ve come anywhere near since basic and you’re hoarding it!?_ ”

“Bitch I’m making it!”

“ _Home made pizza and you’re not gonna offer me a slice?_ ”

“ _I’d like some pizza too if we’re ordering._ ”

“ _Caboose! Shut the fuck up! We’re not. Having. Pizza._ ”

“You’re not having pizza.”

“ _You’re dead to me Tucker!!!_ ”

“ ** _ENOUGH._** ”

Whoa. That’s the maddest she’s heard him since the Meta.

“ _Tucker. You got dragged away last night by armed Sangheilli. You really think you’re safe?_ ”

She groans and leans her head back,

“I know I am. Who do you think hired them?”

“ _They work for the Sangheilli embassy!_ ”

“Wash. I. Work for the Sangheilli Embassy! Have you not been paying attention?!”

“ _Tucker they outnumber you twenty to one. If it turns into a fight-_ ”

“Wash for the last time there’s nothing to fight! They’re _my_ guys!”

“ _Tucker your **guys** are Sangheilli!_”

“WELL NO SHIT!”

Junior backs off with a whimper. Fuck. She shouldn’t be yelling like that. Not around him. Not if he isn’t in trouble. She grits her teeth and lowers her voice,

“Wash. I’ll swing by later. But I’m done taking calls for today.”

“ _Tucker_ -”

“I’m serious Wash. I’m spending the day with my son.” She takes off her helmet and shakes her hair out.

She can hear Wash yelling as she cuts the connection. She only just barely notices though, because Junior’s whole body perks up when she tells Wash her plans. He’s looking at her like she just tossed the whole earth over her shoulder to spend time with him.

He nearly crushes her in a hug and she tries not to cry again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this one got a lot of editing. I feel like I’m learning from posting these actually. I hope you guys enjoy the chapter. I’m probably going to post the next chapter by the end of the weekend.


	4. Caboose plays Gooey Chewey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is running a little later than I suggested. I really was working on it all day though.
> 
> For the record “Gooey-Chewy” is a game where you put a marshmallow in your mouth, then say One Gooey-Chewy. Then the next player’s expected to put two marshmallows in their mouth and say “Two Gooey-Chewy” then three and then four until one player can no longer be understood. 
> 
> Plus! I just figured out how to do the line thing!
> 
> Ps, I will try to get the next chapter out this Wednesday.

 

They spend the entire afternoon on the run from Groze. Obviously Dare would shoot Groze if he _actually_ strangled them, but somehow that doesn’t help his mood.

Groze is _pissed_ , it doesn’t help that they keep ambushing him with water guns. He stomps everywhere he goes, and it makes it easy for them to find him, even when he’s _cloaked_ which was trained out of all Sangheilli in basic.

Sometimes he’ll take up the part of _Bad_ _guy_ , during play time, it’s his way of being sweet. Dare laughs under his breath most of the day.

At bed time she tucks Junior in again, when he sees her go to leave he honks in distress. She kisses his nose and hugs him tight. Tucker promises him she’ll be there in the morning to wake him up for breakfast. He holds onto her a bit longer in silent protest.

“Baby, it’s time for bed.”

“Blargh.” He argues,

“I’m an adult. I make my own bed time.” He gets this defiant look in his eyes, she gives him the Mom look straight back. Junior pouts, but lets her go. Tucker kisses him one more time and blows a raspberry into his neck. Junior honks out a laugh wiggling his feet.

“Blargh!”

It’s easier than it should be to tell what he means. There’s something about the Sangheilli language that’s easy to understand if Junior’s talking. But that particular “Blargh” is so easy, it’s like she knew before he was even born.

_Mama_

She feels like she’s got the entire fucking sun pattering in her chest.

* * *

As a courtesy she lets the guards know she’s going out to see the guys and that they should expect her back late.

They’re not crazy about letting her go unescorted. Groze in particular gets testy, but Dare sets him straight very quickly. No matter what Wash might think, they’re not prisoners, they’re family. One big, very protective, very well armed family.

That thinks her son is alien Jesus.

* * *

The reds and blues are all staying in these barely ever used barracks. There’s no privacy, there _is_ a draft, and because they’re the reds and blues, they’ve divided the essentially empty base into two halves.

When she gets to the base’s entrance, they’re all shooting the shit out in the yard. It’s getting dark out, but they’ve got a fire going and someone must’ve found them beer.

Caboose is roasting a marshmallow, she sees Grif snatch the bag out from under him and shovels a handful in his mouth at once. Simmons gives him a look that lets him know he’s a disgrace,

“Hey fat ass, leave some for the rest of us.” Grif looks him dead in the eye and stuffs another handful in without bothering to chew the first load, Simmons makes a sickened noise,

“I hope you _choke_ on that.” Grif smirks and _somehow_ forms coherent words,

“Fat chance.” His words are a little gushy but understandable, “ _Not_ choking on things is easy!  _Not_ doing things are the things I’m _best_ at doing. Like _not_ following any order that Sarge gives, or _not_ doing my own laundry.” Simmons screws up his face as little bits of marshmallow fly out.

“Uhm… What if the marshmallow doesn’t like you?” Caboose stares at a small fire on the end of his stick.

Grif shrugs, and tries stretching his face to stick another marshmallow in his mouth, “Who cares what a marshmallow thinks? Just eat it. Problem solved.”

Caboose opens his mouth wide as it can go, then when he’s got the marshmallow just at his mouth, Simmons grabs his wrist and blows it out for him. Simmons scowls at Caboose,

“Seriously? How did you survive past your first cross-walk?” Caboose smiles brightly,

“The crossing lady held my hand!”

Church, Carolina and Wash are all over in a corner, like they’re pretending to be the cool kids. Church has his hand to his helmet like he’s got a headache he can’t have,

“C, we have been over this! Tucker’s _fine_. Trust me, if she _wasn’t_ we wouldn’t get her to shut up about it!” Carolina crosses her arms and dips into her hip,

“Why are you so ok with this? I thought you two were friends.”

“Hey. _Hey_. Who told you that? Was it Caboose?” Caboose pokes his head up with as many marshmallows in his mouth as Grif now,

“Heh-woe!”

Grif points victoriously at Caboose, and recites a tongue twister with near perfect diction. Then manages to swallow the entire mushy wad without so much as a cough. He leans back in his chair and lets out a contented sigh,

“Ahh!”

Simmons watches him with revulsion, turning a little green,

“You. Are _disgusting_.” Grif burps in his face, Simmons falls back in his chair dramatically, then doesn’t get up. Grif looks at him a minute then gets up for another beer,

Wash is pacing.

They were _gonna_ get a 5 star hotel but Caboose had an incident in the hotel lobby they prefer not to talk about. There was a fountain that _did_ kind of look like a bath, and Caboose had his rubber ducky on hand. The UNSC’s not really sure what to do with them yet, so while they’re deciding they’re getting what the UNSC are describing as shore leave.

“Tucker.”

Wash is the first to notice her. Damn freelancer hearing. She was gonna make an entrance.

He approaches at a run, when he’s just a foot into her comfort zone he stops. Carolina’s right on his heel and Church zooms past them both to get right in her face.

“Well well! Look who took her sweet time getting back. What? You get sick of your kid already?”

“Shut the fuck up Church.” Grif comes up behind them, Simmons got him to swallow and stole the bag.

“No he’s right! You got a lot of-Is that pizza?” Tucker could care less about whether the guys were still mad at her. But she _did_ grab the leftovers from lunch on her way out, she wanted to make something new for Junior tomorrow anyways.

“Yup. Pepperoni and sausage.”

Grif turns on Church so fast her head spins,“Shut the fuck up Church! How _dare_ you give her shit just for seeing her son! For shame!”  
  
“Are you ok?” Wash’s voice soft, he waves church away like a firefly and despite some offended balking, Church does blur back into Carolina’s armour with only some mild grumbling.

Wash’s looking her over in a way that’s almost exactly like the Sanghelli did last night. Tucker feels a phantom sensation running down her arms. She brushes it off as quickly as it comes on. She’s still mad at him. Tucker’s getting a little fed up with how many times she’s had to say this.

“I. Am. Fine. Dude what do you think they’re going to do. Eat me?” Grif keeps inching towards the box of cold pizza. Wash crosses his arms, suddenly full of attitude,

“No. But I was _pretty_ _sure_ they might use armed guards to lure you away. Then put you on an alien ship where they could’ve flown off with you at any second!” He’s acting like he’s made some cutting point, “We’d have never seen you again Tucker.”

“What is it about this that makes you think I’m getting abducted?! Yes. They’re aliens. Yes, they’ve got a ship. Yes, one of them actually does like to make crop circles for fun-”

Church pops up for that one, “What?”

“-But no! For the last time. They work. For me. Really.”

“So you trained and organized Sanghelli elite?”

“I didn’t say I was their squad leader. That’s Dare, I said they work for me. Junior’s their top priority.”

“See that. That right there. Junior’s their priority. What if they decide they don’t need you?”

“What? You’re talking to the chosen one over here.” She ignites her sword to emphasize the point. “Got the ancient sword-key thing and everything.”

“Key?”

Caboose chimes in at that his mouth his half jaw locked from the marshmallows,

“It unlocks death!”

“Y’know what. I don’t really care.” He’s shaking his head, “Tucker. They’re dangerous, look the war wasn’t all that long ago there are still a lot of long held grudges on both sides.”

“Dude what the fuck do I care? The point is. War ended.”

“You’re not listening! You could be in danger!”

“Why do you think Junior has the armed guards!?”

 

* * *

 

It goes on like that back and forth for a while. Neither one of them really has anything new to say but they keeping saying the old stuff anyways. Carolina and Church bail on them at some point with Church muttering something about how listening to Caboose and Grif playing Gooey-Chewy would be less grating.

Tucker’s pretty sure Grif made off with the pizza at some point, it’s not in her hands anymore, but she’s too pissed to care. What the fuck’s Wash’s problem? It’s not like she did anything she was gonna apologize for.

This was _her_ son they were talking about. She’s going to protect him any way she fucking thinks is best.

“Tucker they just want to protect him because they think he’s apart of some prophecy! Where he’s apparently “The _great_ _destroyer_ ”?”

“Dude, it’s not a real thing. That whole quest was bullshit! The Sanghelli just _think_ it’s real.”

“Exactly! What do you think they’ll do when they finally realize your son isn’t some great saviour?”

“Their entire culture’s taken a cold shower when it comes to great prophecies. The Sangheilli don’t know shit anymore!” Seriously half the embassy thinks he’ll fix all of Sanghelli’s political problems since the prophets got busted, the other half thinks he’s a fraud.

Whatever Wash thinks, she’s keeping the guards. She’s serious, Junior needs protection. And there is no way in _hell_ , he’s getting his own gun.

“Tucker it’s not safe!” Her head tilts back eyes glowing with something new,

“But it’s safe for me to fight the Meta?”

“Tucker that’s not-”

“Or fight an army of Tex robots that essentially sum up a living wave of death?”

“…Ok. Look, it’s just _different_ -”

“No it’s not! Look, you may not be over the war, but I was done with it before it started.”

“Exactly. You weren’t in the war, I was. You didn’t see what they _did_! what they’re _capable_ of!”

She’s about to _screech_.

She’s gonna tell him it’s not _his_ _business_. That he’s got a lot of nerve telling her what’s best for her family. That he can shove his issues with Sangheilli where the sun don’t shine and to go get a freaking marshmallow already so she doesn’t have to listen to him.

But all at once there’s a temperature drop.

This sad, _lonely_ , atmosphere crawling all around him, his whole body seems to go _weak_ in front of her. Like just thinking about the war leeched the life out of him. Then, there’s a chill from her spine outwards.

Slowly Tucker realizes, he’s talked about freelancer a bit, but never once any of his actual UNSC service, or where he’s from.

Or anything at all about his family.

For a minute, there’s just the sound of the fire crackling, and Caboose mushing out an almost indecipherable “ _Twenty_ - _one_ _gooey_ chewy!”

“Wash. My son is Sangheilli. He’s never gonna have a life on earth.”

And it _kills_ her. It kills her that she _knows_ that even if she wanted to leave, she _knows_ the humans will never accept him. They’ll see what Wash sees.

A monster.

An enemy.

They won’t notice the snack cake crumbs on his armour before they shoot. She won’t have Junior walk around believing he’s born wrong, or comparing himself to human standards. He _has_ to grow up around other Sangheilli. He _has_ to have a life at the embassy.

Otherwise Junior grows up not knowing if he’s safe. She won’t have that.

Ever.

The wind seems to have died out of his sails now. Wash’s composure is starting to shift, and Tucker feels vulnerable in a way the shower incident never could’ve made her feel.

“Tucker I don’t think your son’s a monster.”

Crap. How much of that did she say out loud?

She regards him for a minute, then decides to take him at his word.

“Others will.”

Grif wins the game of gooey-chewy. There are cries of outrage and disgust in the background as Grif nearly chokes trying to swallow all thirty marsh mellow globs in one go.

Tucker and Wash just stand together, sitting in a moment that feels like it’ll never end.

 

* * *

 

After a while, they get called over by Sarge. He’s got a banjo and wants to start a red team sing-a-long. Tucker’s desperate for a way out of this nightmare of a conversation so she hustles over. Wash follows after her, neither one of them realizing just how bad it’s about to get.

Apparently Sarge wrote this red team lullaby about Grif dieing violently, this was it’s camp fire sing along cousin.

Sarge wakes Simmons’ back up on a particularly ear curdling note. It only gets worse past that point. Eventually Grif gets up, snatches the banjo from Sarge’s hands and throws it into the fire. Sarge glares furiously,

“You’re gonna live to regret that punk.”

Grif relaxes back in his chair,

”Worth it.”

 

* * *

 

She thinks it might be because she insinuated that Wash’s afraid of Sangheilli. But when she heads back to the ship a few hours later he stops her for a minute. He’s all serious again.

“Is it alright if I meet Junior tomorrow?”

Tucker genuinely has no idea how to respond to that. At all. Even a little. Next she expects him to backtrack, get all embarrassed or tell her to never mind.

He doesn’t, if anything he gets firmer, he takes a step closer, “I’d really like to.” She’s quickly reminded he’s a little taller than her. Somehow he sounds all… _manly_. Somehow. She’s not totally buying it, she crosses her arms,

”Why?” Wash answers without skipping a beat,

“You say the Sangheilli- that your guards can be trusted. I want to see it for myself.” Wash reasons, “Besides, I’m the only one on blue team Junior hasn’t met yet. He might confuse me for Church. So I’d like to set the record straight on that early.”

Tucker thinks on it.

She’s had to deal with people with _issues_ all her life. It only got more dramatic when she had her son. Some run and scream on sight, like when her son tried to hug her at the ceremony. Some have stopped her to yell at her for “betraying humanity” only to be boxed out of her sight by her guards.

Most are quieter about it, most know they can’t get away with direct confrontation, so they glare when think the guards aren’t looking. They keep it to themselves like it’s something to be protected instead of worked out on some therapist’s couch.

So far? Wash is at least _trying_  to change his mind. He seems to actually _want_ to get to know her son better. She’s gotta admit, it’s a nice change of pace. She thinks she likes it.

His helmet’s catching some of the light from the fire in a way it wasn’t a few minutes ago. Somehow, it’s a view she wants to keep of him forever, right next to the mental image of his naked ass in the shower. She considers it.

They’re not standing too close to the flame but her face feels hot and she doesn’t know what to do with her hands.

  
“You have to eat my cooking.” Wash stills curiously,

“What?”

Goddamnit. Why is she so warm? It’s freezing out.

“Junior. He likes bacon and waffles. He’s a messier eater than Caboose, but he’s always in a good mood when he eats.” She looks toward the fire for a minute. She can’t get herself to look at Wash.

“He’ll like you better if he’s in a good mood.”

She turns on her heel and walks off. Her face still feels hot no matter how far she gets from the camp fire. She tries to focus on breakfast, and if they’ve got the ingredients for something Wash’ll like along with Junior’s favourites.

 

* * *

 

In the morning Tucker tells Groze and Dare about her breakfast plans. She makes it clear he’s invited over, and that she expects them to play nice.

Tucker gets up earlier than Junior for once, he’s all tuckered out from yesterday. While she gets some of the ingredients together she takes a break to watch him sleep. When he snores his feet wiggle. God he’s so _sweet_.

Tucker has them lower the hatch to the outside, she’s about to walk down the ramp to the grassy field they’ve landed in. She’s expecting Wash soon so she wants to be in plain sight. Dare appears behind her,

“ _Lady_ _Verna_ , _I_ _must_ _ask_ _a_ _personal_ _question_ _to_ _ensure_ _the_ _Tucker_ _family_ _safety_.” She stops, turns around and shrugs, he doesn’t normally pull “Tucker family safety” unless it’s big so it’s probably important.

“Go ahead.”

“ _This_ _man_. _Is_ _he_ _another_ _of_ _your_ _regular_ _conquests?_   _Or are you seriously considering him to become your mate?_ ”

Tucker feels her brain short out.

“ _I only ask, because if he is simply a conquest, and it becomes standard procedure that they meet Lavernius before consummation takes place, we may require more advanced security protocols_.”

She can’t tell if he’s serious. The old bastard has a tendency of entertaining himself but it _does_ sound like he’s serious.

“ _And, if he is a potential prospect for your hand, he will require a thorough background check_.”

Holy fuck, she wants to yell but she can’t fucking feel her legs.

“ _We are aware he was involved in project Freelancer, his pardon not withstanding I have some concerns regarding his judgement._ ”

What the fuck-his judgement!?

“ _There is also a question of how your potential offspring might be afffected by his care._ ”

That last part he says a bit more softly, like a Dad telling his 8 year old that she can’t own a pet puma. But the point is clear. She can hear Wash’s own words echoing in her ears ‘ _they’re_ _dangerous_ ’.

They’re so alike, she doesn’t know whether she should laugh or smother herself.

“We early?”

Carolina.

OH _crap_.

“Tucker are you pregnant again!?”

Oh hell no.  
  
“Back-burner Church! Tucker. Breakfast. Do you actually have bacon? Or were you just fucking around?”  
  
Screw this. Wash’s dead to her. They’re all lucky she doesn’t just throw them out then and there.

A thought occurs to her, she looks up at Dare _and_ _that_ _bastard_ _is_ _smirking_. She knew it! There is no way paranoid, son of a bitch _Dare_ didn’t know they were on their way.

He set her up! That fuck!

“Tucker! Tucker! If you need help with breakfast don’t worry! We still have marshmallows!”

Something about Caboose breaks the camel’s back hard, for her. Her head whips around to Wash giving him a death glare.

Wash -the fucking _coward_ \- won’t look at her, he’s laughing under his breathe in this really awkward, uncomfortable way like he does whenever someone mentions the time he shot donut. He’s got his hand on his neck like that’s the secret magic trick that’ll make this all go away.

Eventually he does crane his neck to look at her,

“I swear, I didn’t invite them.” It does _nothing_ to lighten her mood.

Tucker can hear Junior moving around from inside the ship and then watches him burst out the door to see the new people.

“Honk!” He runs full speed to Caboose and the two of them hug it out like tackling bears. The Reds and Blues all scatter back as they start to rough house with all the malice of new born puppies. Junior’s laughing out in deep loud honks and Caboose keeps trying to find new ways to tickle him.

Grif nudges Simmons with his elbow, “I’ll bet ten bucks Caboose takes him.” Simmons gives him a bizarre look,

“What? Junior’s an alien! He’s way tougher!”

“This is Caboose we’re talking about! Junior’s practically on blue team! Blue team punk doesn’t stand a chance.” Simmons stands his ground,

“Twenty bucks on Junior.” Caboose grabs Junior in a bear hug and hoists him up off his feet.

All of it’s ebbing away at the edges of her fury. Tucker places 50 on her kid, and tells Junior if he wins he gets to stay up an hour late tonight. Dare watches as Junior sits on Caboose for the win, and she could swear he’s practically purring with satisfaction at the scene.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so more than a few of you guys want to know why Wash is reacting so poorly to the Sanghelli. You got an IDEA from the dialogue, but I looked into the canon.
> 
> “It is also revealed that Wash did his basic training in the Leonis Minoris system before the system's implied destruction. Leonis Minoris is an actual star system in Halo that was all but destroyed in 2537 by the Covenant. Assuming this is the same system, Wash enlisted at 18 and he completed training in the same year as the system's destruction”
> 
> So if this is where Wash was from, and the system was destroyed, my fanon is that his family was killed in the destruction of the system. In Halo canon, the alien attack was unprovoked.
> 
> And in canon it’s a war they very very very nearly lost. People got a little desperate back then, desperation fosters grudges, and it’s Rooster Teeth canon that agent Washington holds grudges. 
> 
> There was a bully in his childhood he smashed into a mirror, and a Staff Sergeant he ruined his career over because he wouldn’t send his men on a suicide mission.
> 
> So far, in Wash’s thinking he’s trying to protect Tucker. To him the Sanghelli are bullies. Bullies that pushed his friend into going to a second location with them using her son as emotional collateral.
> 
> Tucker knows they’re safe because she’s had the time to get to know them. She took a big pass on the war in that canyon.
> 
> Wash rushed from service, to freelancer, to jail, to the reds and blues and hasn’t dealt with it yet.
> 
> So, it’s not exactly fun to see him like this, but I feel it’s important for me to learn not to just paint my characters in a positive light. Sometimes they’ve got vices they need to deal with. 
> 
> If you agree, please place a kudos. If not then please do anyways


	5. Brunching, Red vs Blue style

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I’m sorry this is later than I suggested it would be. I was working on the Wash POV side story and it got a lot later than I expected very quickly. The good news is that I should have it out soon.
> 
> Hope you enjoy the new chapter!

She does end up making breakfast, but not alone. She enlists everyone into helping her. No. Way. Is she feeding all of Red team and Blue team, she is _not_ their Mom.

“Blargh!”

That’s whose Mom she is. Junior was put in charge of mixing the waffle batter, they do have an actual mixer but she loves it when he cooks with her so she hides it when she stumbles onto it. She puts the ingredients in, Junior mixes, Caboose starts playing with Junior’s toys-

Junior gets bored, Junior starts playing with Caboose again, so she takes over the waffles. Sarge gets put in charge of bacon. It goes to his head immediately and he decides for himself that Grif only gets bacon if he “Gets off his ass and starts up the omelet station!”

“What? Sarge! I don’t know anything about omelets!”

“Grif! You’re an adult! How do you screw up breakfast?”

“I dunno Simmons, you tell me. How do _you_ make an omelet?”

“Well you just… you take an egg…”

“Uh huh.”

“And then… there’s an egg.”

“Right.”

“Then you crack it open.”

“Of course. Do tell, what happens after that?”

“Well… uhm… _Tucker_! Why do we need a stupid omelet station!?”

“Do not drag me into that! I said I’d make my _kid_ breakfast! Not you fuckers-” She points her wooden spoon dripping with batter at Sarge threateningly. “And I’m warning you Sarge! That bacon better be crispy! Not. Burnt.”

“Hogwash! Growing boy needs a bit of char on his meat! Develops character! Helps put hair on his chest! Lord knows he’ll need all the help he can get without a Papa around to show him how to be a man!”

“Honk!” Junior looks up offendedly from playing dolls with Caboose,

“Er…adult alien. I guess.”

She crosses her arms and glowers at Sarge in a way that actually makes him nervous. Something about being a Mom in a kitchen seems to give her a new found authority over him. One that Sangheilli guards have yet to give her. He starts to back-peddle awkwardly.

“Er…well. I s’pose there ain’t nothin’ wrong with a Mama showing her boy the ropes to adulthood.”

She nods, then keeps staring waiting for him to continue,

“And… I s’pose the bacon’s fine s'long as its’ crispy.” She nods a last time, lets herself have a brief smile.

“Way to be a man Sarge.”

“Can it Grif! Get to the omelets!”

 

 

* * *

 

   
Breakfast turns into brunch by the time they’re actually ready to eat. Waffles, plenty of bacon, piles of toast, Donut even ended up tastefully arranging a selection of fresh fruit. No omelets though, they get scrambled eggs. The omelet station turned out to be a bust but she didn’t really think Grif’d pull it off.

She also didn’t think he’d start a fire. But one second she’s stacking waffles on a big plate together, the next she’s pushing Junior back away from the stove as Grif hits the deck.

There’s too much smoke to really see at first. Then she can slowly make out two Sangheilli guards with fire extinguishers blowing foam all over her stove. Then when the fire’s out, the guards smoothly and without a word disappear from all sight.

The guys have a moment of uncertainty, not sure what to make of what just happened.

“Well that was…weird.”

“Are they still in here?” Donut questions awkwardly waving his arms around like he might reach out and touch one. Tucker shakes her head in response. This area of the ship isn’t really that big, they don’t have the room to walk around unnoticed even with camouflage.

The other Sangheilli elite normally stay cloaked when she’s playing with Junior. It’s so they don’t disturb the bonding time. Tucker thinks of it as their way of being sweet, see Sangheilli have pretty strict rules about not showing weakness to the enemy. So if Tucker feels comfortable just playing with her kid in front of them, they take it pretty seriously.

“They always so talkative? Or is it just when they’re saving your neck?” Church ponders openly for the room.

She shrugs and distinctly does _not_ look at Wash as she answers. “I asked them to keep their distance for a while.”

She’s barely spoken to Wash since he came to the ship. He’s still in hot water as far as she’s concerned. The party crashers have not changed her mood.

From the corner of her eye she catches Wash looking at her. Suddenly Grif lets out a cry of distress,

“Hey!”

Junior’s used the distraction of the fire to start helping himself to the plate of waffles. He’s dumped a shameless amount of syrup all over them and doesn’t bother with forks or knives. He uses both hands and takes a huge bite of two at a time like he’s eating a sandwich.

Watching a Sangheilli eat is something you get used to over time. She wasn’t kidding when she called him a messy eater, the four jaws don’t make it a pretty sight.

Various objections and gagging noises from the guys spring up wildly and she just sighs. She ignores them and goes straight to Junior. He’s sitting so for now she has the extra intimidation factor of standing a couple of feet over him.

He looks up at her with this totally innocent look on his face, his face is covered in waffle bits that didn’t fit in his mouth on the first go, and he’s got syrup all over his armour. She tries but fails just a bit not to look amused.

“Is it good?”

“Blargh!”

“Good. Good. But that wasn’t just for you, was it?” Junior maintains eye contact a second, sees where this is going and then ducks his head down to his chest in shame. “Junior?” She repeats patiently, still expecting an answer. He shifts in his seat awkwardly,

“Honk.”

“That’s right. It wasn’t.” Junior pouts for a second, then puts the half eaten waffles down on his plate.

“Honk!”

“I know.” She’s speaking as softly and soothingly as she can. She’s pretty sure he just got over excited, “But you need to share.” Junior nods glumly.

“Blargh.” He puts the remaining waffles he hadn’t eaten back on the serving plate and leaves himself the ones he’d already gotten a bite into.

“Good boy. I’m proud of you.” Junior’s head bobs back up gleefully. He points to the bacon,

“Blargh?”

“Let the others get some first ok?” Junior pouts but nods and Tucker can’t reign in this very mom instinct to get the some of the syrup off his cheeks by licking her thumb and rubbing away at it.

“ _Honk!_ ”Junior howls trying to squirm away. She just grabs him in a hug around his neck nearly sitting in his lap to get closer. She keeps it up until most of it’s cleared off his face.

“You don’t like it? Then next time why don’t you actually taste my food the next time I make you something?”

“Honk!”

“Sure you were. That’s why you’re wearing half of it.”

“Blargh! Honk! Honk!”

“Oh please. You barely ever see them! Besides, they have way more embarrassing things happening to them _all_ _the_ _time_.” Junior honks in disbelief. Then she kisses him right on the mouth and Junior _honks_ at the top of his lungs mortified.

So, sometimes, she’s noticed that when she gets into _Mommy_ _mode_ she kind of…forgets everything around her. So while she was pretty unconcerned that she was embarrassing Junior, she was now just kind of remembering where she was and what she was doing and who she was doing it in front of.

She looks around and realizes that the guys are just sort of starring. Grif and Simmons exchange a look, Caboose gets this gooey expression on his face that makes Tucker cringe, Donut puts a hand over his heart, Sarge has this surprised helmet tilt going on, and she just plain refuses to look at Wash.

To her surprise, Carolina looks half way to touched. She doesn’t know how to process that right now so she looks at the floor.

Well crap. She doesn’t have anything for this. She feels her face heating up a bit and thanks god that she’s black so no one can tell.

“Food’s getting cold guys.”

She’s flustered for a second and turns to the voice, then barely keeps a hysterical laugh in when she sees Wash make off with the first of the bacon, a waffle from the plate Junior didn’t touch, and a handful of the strawberries Donut had out.

“Hey! No fair!” Grif grabs a plate and storms the kitchen.

“I think Junior made it clear, first come first serve.” Wash confirms finding a place at the ship’s table to eat.

She’s just totally forgiven Wash for whatever the hell she was mad about this morning. What the fuck was it again? Who cares. Remembering will just make her angry.

“Stop him! If Grif goes next there’ll be nothing left for the rest of us!”

“Grif you walking stomach! Get out of that kitchen right now! Red team has an order! It goes me, then Simmons, then me, then Donut, then me again-”

“Sarge there’s no way you can eat that much.”

“A true red team soldier would never let their stomach tell them what they can or can’t do!”

Tucker gets off of Junior giving his arm a little squeeze. Junior pokes his head up, paying rapt attention to the guys as they bicker. Everyone gets a plate and settles in. Caboose starts showing Wash how to turn his waffles into a syrup volcano. She sees Wash keep Caboose from getting any of the syrup on the table.

Then when she decides she’s gonna try and grab breakfast for herself, she notices Church watching her cautiously.

“Tucker?”

“What?” What the fuck is his issue? He mumbles something awkwardly not looking her in the eyes, she leans closer, “Church what the fuck are you saying?”

“You’re not actually pregnant right?” She scowls and pushes right into his face,

“What the _fuck_?” Church raises his hands defensively,

“Hey, hey, I’m just asking. If I’m gonna be a god father again I want to know.” She rolls her eyes,

“What the hell gave you the impression you’re Junior’s godfather?” Church puts his hands on his hips with cynical disbelief,

“What? You picked Caboose over me?” She puts a hand on her hip,

“I’ve got other people.”

“Who? Your mother?”

“…Look, unless I fucking ask you, don’t assume you get my baby when I’m gone.”

“Fine. Get used to your son being a bastard orphan for all I care.”

“Fine!”

“…”

“…”

“I filled out the paper work with Dare a while ago. If I die you’ll get a call.”

“I _knew_ it.”

 

* * *

 

   
Junior’s a lot better behaved after everyone settles down. Throughout breakfast he keeps tapping her on the arm and pointing at the guys. He remembers Caboose easy, but he needs her to jog his memory on the others.

“Blargh?” He points to Carolina at the table, she’s new so she’s the gimme,

“That’s Carolina.”

“Honk?”

“No, you guys never met. Don’t worry, you didn’t forget her.” Junior looks over to Carolina expectantly,

“Blargh.” Carolina goes still the fork just at her chin, she looks at Tucker confused,

“What’s he saying?”

“He says he likes your armour.” Junior bobs his head agreeing happily, then turns back to Tucker curiously,

“Blargh?” Tucker shakes her head,

“It’s just a coincidence baby.” Junior looks at Carolina a little longer and then goes back to his waffles. He still refuses to use a fork and knife, as far as she’s concerned utensils are optional at breakfast.

Tucker’s about to ask Carolina to pass the juice but when she looks up Carolina’s got this weird look on her face. What was she expecting? Junior’s a kid, he just asks whatever he feels like at any given time.

“Honk?”

“That’s Simmons. He’s the huge nerd.”

“Hey!”

“Honk?”

“The orange guy next to him is Grif.” Junior wiggles his feet under the table and looks up at her curiously,

“Blargh?”

“Yea, I’m pretty sure.”

“Honk?”

“Dunno, they’ve never said.” Simmons tilts his head to the side curiously,

“What’s Junior saying now?”

“Junior just thinks you two make a cute couple.”

Simmons very ingloriously spit takes juice all over his waffles. Grif starts to choke on his bacon. Great. So no one can get through her breakfast. Junior laughs gleefully. Tucker then starts to give him a look and he covers his mouth with both hands trying to hide it.

When Simmons gets his bearings he’s indignant, “That is _not_ what he just said!”

Junior nods once, “Blargh.”

“See! He just agreed with me! Admit it Tucker you have no idea what he’s saying!” Junior shakes his head at Simmons, then points to him,

“Blargh.” He states, then points at Grif, “Honk.” He says without a drop of insincerity.

“Blargh Honk.”

Then as if he’s made some final solemn point he raises his plate to Tucker for more syrup.

“Blargh?” She smiles at him then grabs the syrup bottle,

“Since you asked nicely.” She pours out a generous amount on his waffles until he honks. Church cackles from on top of Carolina’s shoulder,

“I think he just pronounced you two married.” Simmons’ starts to turn beet red, and loudly announces to Junior.

“We’re not gay!”

“Blargh.” Junior insists.

“No. We’re not!”

“Blargh!”

“Look kid, I think _I_ would know!” Simmons wails, Tucker starts laughing,

“Simmons, you’d be the last to know.” Simmons drops his fork and knife dramatically and crosses his arms indignantly. Grif’s gulps down his juice trying not to choke on the food he inhaled. He thumps his chest with his closed fist a few times for good measure. 

 

 

* * *

 

   
There’s a food fight.

Tucker’s not sure why she didn’t see it coming. Junior doesn’t start it so she takes that as a good sign of her parenting, but she was right before, she needs better friends. To Caboose’s credit, she’s sure he wasn’t _trying_ to start it, but he was pretty quick to blame it on her.

“Tucker did it.” Caboose still has the pitcher in his hands as he says it. Sarge’s armour is still dripping and sticky with juice. Sarge reacts better than Tucker would’ve thought.

“Red Team! Blue team has launched a sneak attack! Begin post pre-emptive sneak attack attack!”

“Wha-No! Guys I have to clean this up-AHG!” Grif and Simmons both take the opportunity to throw bacon and splatter syrup on her. “What the fuck!?”

“Pronounce this Tucker!”

“Suck it blue!” Simmons snaps.

“That’s it!” Tucker throws the contents of her plate at Simmons who lets out a disgusted cry, “Junior! Get the super soaker!” Tucker uses her empty plate to shield herself from Grif’s counter strike of Donut’s fruit plate. Junior leaps away from the table and starts rummaging through his toy chest.

“RAAGGH!!”

“Caboose! I can’t throw anything! Get Tucker for me!”

”Church! What the fuck!? Same team!”

“Red team! Show no mercy!”

Sarge runs in with the burned egg remains from the omelet station throwing them straight for Wash. Wash ducks behind the kitchen counter for cover and uses his _commanding_ _officer_ voice,

“Sarge! Tucker! That’s enough-GAH!” Wash had taken his helmet off to eat, _Donut_ put it back on for him… filled with whole eggs from her fridge. Tucker can hear them _crack_  in his helmet against his head. With a revolted cry Wash pulls off his helmet and tries to wipe his face clean.

Tucker’s impressed actually, she didn’t figure Donut had the balls, he winks at her and dips out of the fight with a bowl of yogurt and strawberries. So apparently Donut _was_ still a little peeved about the time Wash shot him, go figure.

Tucker watches the yolk drip down his neck, she laughs and ducks from flying kiwi then dips behind cover next to Wash. Tucker smirks at him finally enjoying herself again, 

“Egg on your face?” Oh God she’d do anything for a picture of this,

“Was that you?!” Tucker leans into his personal space, noses only just _not_ touching,

“Like I’d do something to _that face.”_  
  
“Tucker, I’m sure you thought you were flirting, but you used the Mom voice.” Tucker folds her arms and pouts,

”Damn it. I hate it when that happens.”

 

* * *

 

   
Her kitchen is a disaster by the time they’ve run out of food. The Sangheilli seem to have decided to keep out of it, she thanks the level of insanity she consistently brings into the house that made them ready for this.

“I am _never_ cooking for you fuckers again.”

She’s still pissed at them, they got Junior all sticky.

“Blaaaargh.” He’s absolutely _miserable_ , poor thing’s covered head to toe in eggs, syrup, soda-that bastard Grif got a hold of his water gun for a while- and waffle batter. He keeps squirming as she wipes off the worst of the gunk. She mumbles to Junior under her breathe,

“Stay still. God I’m gonna need to hose you off outside.”

“Honk!” Simmons’ pipes up indignantly,  
  
“Screw you Tucker! We barely _got_ any breakfast before _Caboose_ -”

“Tucker did-”

“No I fucking didn’t!”

“Sooo, there’s no chance of getting _lunch_ -”

“Oh fuck that!” These bitches are getting on her last nerve. They show up uninvited, they mess up her ship’s kitchen, they ruin her breakfast, she’s not getting stuck with the clean up. “You assholes started this fight. _You’re_ gonna clean it up!”

“Ha! That’s a good one. Plus I’m pretty sure _Caboose_ started it.” Simmons nods picking out bits of food stuck in the cracks of his armour,

“Yea, fuck that, it’s not our ship.”

“It’ll be a cold day in hell before we help a damn dirty blue clean house!”

“Oh you’re helping!” Tucker says firmly, planting her hands on her hips.

“Yea? I’d like to see you try and make-” Tucker raises her hand to her mouth and lets off a sharp whistle. Then Dare pops up right behind Grif letting out a low and deeply unamused breathe of irritation.

Grif stills, and oh so slowly turns his neck to see the seven foot alien in dark green armour standing over him from behind,

“ _Lady Verna, is there some issue?_ ”

Tucker looks to Grif, “Not yet.” She smirks when she sees how uncomfortable he is, “I was just telling Grif how you guys are just here for security. Cleaning’s not covered by their union.” Dare nods solemnly.

“ _Yes, I remember the negotiations._ ” Tucker beams at Grif maniacally,

“See, I gave up on that little concession; however they promised if someone _other_ than me comes in and jacks up my stuff, they’d be in charge of finding the guilty party and having them… how’d you say it Dare?”

Dare seems to get what Tucker wants here so he doubles down on the Batman voice and snarls as he speaks.

“ _Anyone who would leave the Tucker Family’s home in disrepair, will be expected to pay recompense_.”

Dare knows damn well it’ll take her forever on her own, and Junior still wanted to spend the day with her. Tucker nods satisfied and looks to the guys expectantly.

There’s a brief moment of hesitation and uneasy shared looks between the red team before some mutual nodding. Then Sarge hollers out at Grif, “Grif! Simmons! You heard the lady! Start cleaning up that gal-darned omelet station up!” There’s some bouts of complaining as they start to clear up the mess.

She smiles at Dare and nods, he takes that as his cue and disappears without a word. Tucker takes a seat letting out a happy sigh, she gets dirty looks, she doesn’t care in the slightest.  
  
Then Carolina, who somehow doesn’t have a single spot on her armour walks over to her. Tucker almost didn’t notice, she was watching Caboose, he’s got Junior by the hand and telling him they’re gonna go find a hose. He’ll be fine, the guards are everywhere… she’ll check on him in a minute.

“Some guards you got there.”

Carolina approaches with Church on her shoulder. Tucker’s not sure if it’s still about the medals they all got, or if it’s just watching Simmons whack Grif with the broom when he was just making sweeping noises but she almost sounds like she’s in a good mood. Tucker shrugs, not really sure how to act around Carolina yet,

“Eh, they’re alright, Dare doesn’t always look it, but he’s got this secret puckish side just waiting to burst out.”

“Y’know I didn’t get that impression.” Tucker’s not sure why, but it takes people so long to notice that about him. It’s not just a human thing even other Sangheilli don’t get it. It’s weird because it was like the _first_ _thing_ she noticed about him when she and Junior met him.

Church watches the reds clean, and with a damn near diabolical tone asks, “Yea so… I was thinking, just how far do you think we could take this?”

“We?”

“C’mon, Tucker, blue team spirit and all that shit. Hey, when I had aliens worshipping me I let you benefit.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Well, I didn’t let them eat you.”

“They were never gonna eat me! Besides you totally abandoned me and Caboose to go wander off after Tex! Then they nearly beat us to death!”

“How’s that my fault!?”

“The part where you abandoned us!” Church waves his hand dismissively,

“Oh, don’t be so _dramatic_. You got out alive! It’s not my fault if you can’t outrun an angry mob.” Tucker smirks devilishly,

“That’s what Tex said.” Church sputters _outraged_ , and Carolina actually _laughs_. Donut pops over offering Carolina the last of the strawberries, and then leans in to Tucker’s ear lowering his voice,

“So…Tucker, would you mind keeping what you saw back there between us?” Carolina tilts her head curiously, but Tucker beams at him as Donut backs up a step,

“Oh yeah, we’ll just say it was Grif. That fucker has it coming.”

“What’s going on?” Tucker shakes her head,

“Don’t worry about it, I should go check on my kid anyways. I try not to leave him alone with Caboose for more than fifteen minutes at a time.” Church nods,

“Yeah, last time Caboose went so long without blood he nearly died.” Tucker sticks her tongue out as she leaves,

“Oh shut up. Junior’s on solids now. You _just_ saw him eat breakfast!”

“Don’t fucking remind me!” Tucker gives him the finger walking away,

Tucker looks around the hallway until she finds the sticky footprints they leave behind them. She follows the trail down to the exit ramp. As she puts her feet on the grass she’s worried she’s lost the trail.

Then she hears the splashing and she breathes.

Tucker finds them at the bank of the lake, they’ve gotten about Junior’s hip deep, which about reaches Caboose’s knee. Caboose is showing him the best way to get his head underwater. Junior’s still learning to swim. Dunking his head is the scariest part for him but he’s been a fucking trooper about it.

For as frustrating as Caboose is, -and Jesus Christ he _is_ \- having him over every now and again isn’t a terrible idea. She can tell Caboose loves him, and Junior always has fun whenever they’re together.

“They ok?” She looks over her shoulder and sees Wash, she nods.

“Yea, Caboose’s wearing his helmet, even he can’t drown in one of those babies.” Wash looks past her shoulder to the two of them. Junior’s flopping on his back in the water, now he’s just showing off. Caboose, because he’s Caboose, applauds with total sincerity. Sometimes, though she’d never admit this out loud, she almost likes him.

“You get the egg off your face yet?” Wash cranes his head awkwardly,

“Not… yet.” She looks him over, his hair’s wet and she knows his helmet’s in her sink, he seems clear but maybe it’s caught behind his ears or something.

“He’s cute.”

At that moment she feels her throat clench up and her heart goes wild. Butterflies flare up in her stomach she had no idea _existed_. When she doesn’t say anything, he keeps going,

“ _Junior_ , I mean. Not Caboose.” He keeps moving his hands like he’s telling some story, “I didn’t expect this…I mean, I didn’t expect _him_ to be so…” Wash tries and fails to come up with the words, “so…” He has his hands up like he’s questioning everything he’s ever known.

Tucker doesn’t give it that much weight, let’s face it, it’s Wash, he does that every other time he has a near death experience. He’s looking at her now, like he wants her to finish his thought.

She won’t, she wants to hear this. She wants to hear him say it using his words. After a moment, he seems to find them, and says it with this little exasperated laugh,

“So… like a little kid.”

She lets herself smile at him for that, no smirk, nothing sly about it, no tease, just a genuine, whole-hearted smile.

When people look at Junior, so _many_ of them are missing the fucking point. She’s used to it, but still it sucks sometimes. Sanghelli look at him like the messiah, humans look at him like he’s gonna spit acid. Fuck there are still days when she catches Church eying him like he’s about to neck stomp her son every now and again.

Why the fuck does she hang out with him again?

The point is, there’s only a handful of people in the world that seem to see him for the little boy he actually is. Not just seeing him as the way people _expect_ him to be. Now, Wash gets to be one of them. As far as she’s concerned, that’s the best thing she can say about a person.

This time, she tells him that intentionally.

Tucker’s just got this gutsy mood right now, She’s not gonna waste it. His response isn’t immediate, there are several breathes between the two of them before he speaks again,

“Tucker, I don’t know what to say.”

Since he hasn’t given her a reason to stop smiling yet, she decides to give him a hand, she points to Junior and Caboose, they’ve started a splash fight and Junior’s winning by a _lot_ ,

“You say… ‘Hi Junior, my name’s Wash.’”

For the first time, Tucker really sees him start to let his guard down. His shoulders relax, his core loosens, his whole body seems to set itself at ease. It’s doing something to her, she doesn’t know what’s going on with her exactly but it causes this irresistible urge to ruin the moment.

“I walked in on your Mom one time-”

“ _Tucker_!”

The walls all go back up, and he’s blushing like she’s naked again. Tucker kicks herself silently, she doesn’t know why she can’t appreciate a good thing while she had it.

Doesn’t stop her from laughing at him though, she can’t fucking help herself,

“What? You think it’d come easier from me?” She pauses replaying her sentence and laughs, “Bow-Chika-Bow-Wow.” Wash eyes keep whipping between her and the lake like Junior can hear them,

“I thought you wanted him to like me!”

“I _do_. But I get bored easily, so to entertain myself I’ve decided I’m gonna drop a bomb like that when you guys meet for the first time. Make things more interesting.”

“Don’t you _dare_.”

“He’s my son Wash. I can tell him whatever I want. Hell, I could tell him you beat up the tooth fairy and _that’s_ why he’s missed his last three payments.”

Wash raises a pointed hand like he’s about to argue, but she grabs it and pulls him with her down the ramp towards the lake.

“Wait! Tucker! Don’t-” Wash stops himself and then something dawns on him, “Hold on… you’re _bluffing_.” She doesn’t slow her pace for a second, just looks back at him slyly.

“You just _want_ me to think that. So now that I _think_ that, I _know_ you’re not going to do it.” Wash proudly concludes, his eyes never leaving their joined hands. He comes along without much of a fight, Lord knows she couldn’t drag him if he was trying to stay put.

“I’m not?” She’s unashamedly smirking at him now. Lets him think about it for a minute.

“I change my mind.” Wash says urgently, “Today’s a bad day for this, we should-”

“Junior! Junior baby! Come meet agent Washington!” Tucker waves her free arm wildly at Junior to get his attention.

Junior pokes his head up from the lake and spots them. He dashes up from the water still soaked head to toe, he still looks a little sticky, but the lake washed away at least some of the mess.

“Why do you hate me?”

He’s got that tone again, the one she’s pretty sure is reserved specifically for when he finds her exasperating. Tucker winks at him playfully,

“You know you love it.”

Wash breaks eye contact immediately, before she can say anything, they both get tackled off their feet Junior and tumble to the ground together.

“Blargh!”

 

 

* * *

 

   
“Blargh?”  
  
“It’s not your fault, these things just never have the proper sights. Used to drive me up the wall as a kid.”

Wash shows him the proper stance again and demonstrates, using Junior’s favourite super soaker to shoot a tin can from twenty paces. Junior honks delighted and holds out his hands for the gun from Wash.

“Blargh! Blargh?” Wash nods,

“Sure, just remember, line it up.” Wash hands over the super soaker and Junior tries to imitate his stance, he steadies his gun and starts pumping. After a first second of just skimming the target, Junior keeps a steady current on the can until it topples off the fence.

When it does Junior raises the gun over his head like a trophy, honking at the top of his lungs in victory. Wash laughs,

“Good. Good. You’re getting it, but you’re still a little off at the beginning. Here-” Wash straightens up Junior’s stance almost imperceptibly, “I wanna show you how it feels to _connect_ to the shot.”

Tucker ends up completely forgetting to embarrass him in front of her son. Doesn’t feel even a second of loss for the missed opportunity. She watches them so quiet as if just breathing too loudly could bring it to an end.

 

 


	6. Wash’s side of things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. This one’s in Wash’s POV. I’ve been mentioning doing this for a while and I know it’s a little later than I suggested. My Friday got crazy.
> 
> Basically we get to see how Wash’s been reacting to the last few days.

The Sangheili used that _damned_ cloaking tech, so now it’s impossible to follow them. He knows because he _tried_ every single way he was taught in basic. It was dark, which didn’t help, and these were clearly Elites. Wash doubles back to Church, hoping Tucker’s armour had some sort of tracking tech like his freelancer armour.

Church laughs in his face, Carolina snaps at him, she seems to be the only one other than him that’s taking this seriously. He listens to them argue for a bit but he tunes it out when he gets they’re not actually talking about _getting_ _her_ _back_.

Church just keeps insisting Tucker doesn’t need saving, he puts all this effort into sounding like he couldn’t care less. Carolina wants to know why she wasn’t given a heads up when the Sangheili first attacked, and why he apparently jammed her gun when the Sangheili first came in.

He walks away, they don’t notice, he needs time to think, Carolina’s normally the one who comes up with the plans but right now she’s not helping. Wash starts going through the worst case scenarios, as he tries and _tries_ to get Tucker on the comms.

But she doesn’t pick up.

Right now, they’re in the middle of a peace treaty, and if they do work for the embassy like they say, then they can’t _hurt_ _her_. They’re not going to. Tucker’s complying, she’s not offering up any resistance which means…

Which means, all she has to do is give them a reason.

 

 

* * *

  

 

He tosses and turns the entire night, sometimes during his longer bouts of insomnia, he would just lay awake, starring at the ceiling remembering how effortless it _used_ to be when he was a kid. He used to sleep like he’d never go without sleep for the rest of his life.

Well, now he knows better.

He sits up, he’s not sure why he thought he’d get any rest tonight. Tucker’s _gone_ they’ve _got_ _her_. Church is acting like nothing’s wrong, the guys apparently all knew about this like Tucker’s kid’s always been a Sangheili.

Which…yeah, ok so he has always been a Sangheili, but no one told _him_. Wash has never seen one that young before either, and the truly horrifying thing is?

Wash is absolutely sure he inherited Tucker’s eyes.

“Wash. You are _killing_ me. There is nothing wrong with our comms, she’s just snubbing you. Take the hint.”

“Church I shouldn’t have to tell you why this is important.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll remind me.”

Epsilon’s his usual charming self, Carolina gets up early for training, Church gets up with her, despite the endless complaining. After Wash gets Carolina to gang up on him Church agrees to try using a comm signal to track her.

Wash spends the entire morning fighting with Epsilon with far to rare successes and far far too many hurdles. Church never misses an opportunity to bitch about the workload,

“Look if you can’t do this-”

“ _Blargh_?” They both freeze. He doesn’t understand what Junior’s saying but he knows there’s no way that could be an adult Sangheili speaking.

“Well what do you know? Looks like the little bastard wants to meet you.”

“ _Honk?”_

“Oh don’t be so sensitive-”

“You know what he’s saying?” Wash whips his head around to Church. He doesn’t speak a word of it, but Junior doesn’t speak like any Sangheili dialect he’s ever heard before. Church looks over at him surprised,

“Uh…no, not really, just listening for the context I guess. Hey Junior!?”

“ _Blargh_?”  
  
Church clears his throat,

“Do-you-know-where- _Tucker_ -is?” Church speaks to him in a voice so slow, even Wash finds it patronizing,

“ _Blargh?_ ”

“TUCK-ERR. TUCKER!”

“ _BLAH_ - _ARGH_. _HONK_!”

“Are you sassing me?”

“ _Honk_.”

“…ok, I’ll bite, what the fuck does that mean?”

Jesus Christ. What are they doing here?

 

* * *

 

  
  
The comm conversation was a disaster, Tucker’s convinced she’s safe. The only good news is that means they haven’t hurt her yet. The bad news is it’s going to be harder to get her away from them.

He’d spent the rest of the day at their excuse of a base in their excuse of a shooting range. Places like these always set off flashes of déjà vu. He doesn’t fight it, it could be a year from now, it could be three years back, but he lets the feeling run with him in the training session.

The Reds and Blues, who are all _still_ acting like there’s nothing wrong, actually start a campfire. Caboose apparently got a jumbo bag of marshmallows from…somewhere he’s not sure where.

Carolina’s said more than once she’s starting to get worried about him. So now Carolina’s arguing with Church about an actual rescue operation-

Tucker. _Tucker_ , she’s here.

Wash caught a glance at her, that armour colour does nothing to hide her in the dark. Wash breaks into a run to get to her, she looks exactly the same as she did the day before. Not a scratch on her, not a thing getting in the way of her effortless, ‘everything’s fine’ smile.

Like it’s nothing.

 

 

* * *

 

 

As Tucker hurries off, Wash takes a deep breathe and tries to even out his pulse before any of the others see him,

_“He’ll like you better if he’s in a good mood.”_

What did she mean by that?

“Did she say bacon?”  
  
“Gah!” Wash whips around on his heel and just manages to stop himself from stabbing Grif,

“Grif! When did you- How did you-...What exactly did you hear?”

For someone so large Grif has a _deceptively_ quiet footstep. Wash’s better trained than this, he should have heard him coming. Now he has to decide if he wants to risk Grif inviting himself along, or convince him they were talking about bacon hypothetically. For some reason.

Besides, he’s not sure he wants to talk to Grif about…whatever the hell that was.

“Wash, if it helps, I didn’t hear anything before or after bacon and _waffles_. Now, what’s happening here? Does she have some or was that just bull?” Wash groans and puts the palm of his hand to his temple,

“Nothing Grif. Nothing’s happening here, she just-”

“Wash. Did. She. Say. Bacon?”

“Well… _yes_ but-”

“So then Tucker was talking about breakfast right?”

“Uhmm…”

 

* * *

 

 

  
Grif wouldn’t stop asking about where Tucker’s getting bacon and then suddenly everyone’s heard and Church won’t stop giving him the stink eye.

“Wash, why the fuck do you wanna meet the little chupacabra?”

“Alright I have to know, _why_ do you think he’s little? Why do _you_ keep calling him little?”

“Oh come on. I’ve known the brat since day one.” Church wipes a fake tear sarcastically from his visor, “In my memory banks, he’ll always be that little.”

“He chomped on me!” Caboose chirps brightly,

“He sure did buddy.”

“I hate to break it to you Church, but that _little_ …guy, is a lot bigger than you now.”

“Yea… but I’m a hologram. I get bigger. You know, if I want to.”

“Chuurch! Why didn’t you tell me you could still do that!?”

“Fuck! No! Donut! Go away!”

Wash manages to slip away after that, Grif’s been starring him down like prey, but Sarge ends up distracting him.

Sarge is apparently still pissed about his banjo. The fire’s finally gone out, and the banjo held up surprisingly well. The metal strings are all snapped and unusable, and it’s completely covered in black char…but at least it’s still a stick.

Sarge seems to have dipped it in oil, set it on fire again, and is trying to beat Grif to death with it.

Wash decides not to get involved, he’s got to get up early tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

   
He doesn’t sleep well, but the point is, he is able to sleep. He’s too exhausted not to. It’s nothing fun though. The first time he sleeps he tosses and turns with a nightmare about his first deployment.  
  
The second time he manages to sleep until three in the morning. It’s all down hill from there though, he lays there with his eyes closed but can’t actually manage to sleep.

Four hours altogether. Not bad.

 

* * *

 

 

Tucker sends him coordinates through the HUB to find her ship early the next morning. He’s just latching on his boots when he gets the message. Church somehow knows exactly as it happens and pops up on his shoulder,

“Whatcha got there Wash?”

He tries desperately to click the coordinates away before Church can plug into his armour to see it. He isn’t nearly fast enough.

“Oh, how _interesting_.”

“You have something to say Church?”

“No no, I just think it’s sweet. Second date and already she’s introducing you to her son. Big step man. I’m proud of you.”

If someone were eavesdropping they might think he was being sincere. But since he’s Church Wash knows what he sounds like when he’s mocking someone. Jesus Christ, Church is never gonna let this go, Wash isn’t entirely sure _what_ is going on between him and Tucker, but he doesn’t ask for a reason. It’s got nothing to do with him.

“It’s not like that.”

“Oh come on. What’s a matter? Not ready to be a step-dad?”

“Just because I can’t shoot you doesn’t mean I can’t throw your program off a cliff.”

“Whoa! Whoa!” Church throws his hands up, “Someone’s a little nervous.”

“I am not nervous! There’s nothing to be nervous about!” He isn’t even convincing himself.

“ _He’ll like you better if he’s in a good mood._ ”

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“Your pulse, you just had an arrhythmia.”

“Your sensors must be off.” Church watches him and slowly fold his arms,

“No. They’re not. What was that?” Wash gets up, the ship is close, but not that close, he should really already be on his way,

“Y’know, I don’t remember giving you permission to look through my suit’s personal information.”

“Don’t worry about it man. We all make mistakes.”

“Church-”

“You have a thing for Tucker?”

He just…he just _asks_ that, like it’s no big deal. Like it’s _nothing_. Like whatever the answer is doesn’t have the potential to blow up his life. What is he supposed to say anyways? It’s…it’s _Tucker_. Wash tries and fails to come up with something, when he doesn’t answer, Church starts up again,

“Cause if you do, I gotta say, you can do better.”

Wash stops dead in his tracks,

“What?”

“Tucker. Don’t get me wrong, she’s hot and all but she’s… y’know, she’s _Tucker_. I mean, c’mon man, she’s _Tucker_. We’re talking about the girl who did the entire red team! She’s not just gonna-uh…Wash? _Wash_. Your pulse is all over the place.”

“Out.”

“Ok, just calm-”

“ _Out_. Now. Or I go find a cliff.”

 

* * *

 

 

  
He doesn’t see Church for a while after that, Wash gets a shuttle, his stop gets him about a quarter click away from the coordinates Tucker sent. There’s some pretty dense forestry but at least there’s a foot trail.

The reds and blues follow him.  
  
Caboose is the easiest tail to spot, Sarge is a close second because he keeps hollering at Grif and Simmons to keep quiet while they’re on a “gal-darned stealth mission!”. They’re not much better at keeping hidden, but it’d be hard to do worse. At least Wash doesn’t have to look at them quite as often.

Carolina’s the only one who doesn’t care if she’s spotted and walks with Wash. Wash can’t tell her to leave, and Church knows it, it makes him brave enough to bring back that cocky tone,

“So, you’re really going through with this?”

“Not now Church.”

If he focuses on Church he’s just going to get pissed. Wash cranes his neck and addresses the reds and blues in the bushes,

“And why are you all following me?!” He looks directly to Caboose.

“Uhm…tree sounds!”

“Caboose. Buddy, I know you’re not a tree. Take the leaves off your helmet.”

“…Ok.” There’s a pause as Caboose shakes himself off like he’s doing the twist, Carolina seems bored but she hasn’t left yet. Church shakes his head at Caboose, Wash crosses his arms waiting it out.

“Sarge. C’mon out.”

“…”

“You’re wearing red armour hiding behind a bush. I see you.”

“…”

“Grif. You’re not getting any breakfast.”

Grif shoots straight up from behind the tree next to Caboose,

“How _dare_ you try to boggart the only hot breakfast around! Why are you getting special treatment!?”

“I’m not!”

“Grif you lazy son of a bitch! Get your ass back down into cover!” Simmons’ head pokes out from behind the other bush,

“Yea… Wash, I don’t know about that. Tucker cooking you breakfast? What? Just because you asked?”

“I didn’t ask! That’s not what’s happening here!”

“You’re just going to her ship.”

“Right!”

“To meet her son.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

“Over breakfast.”

“…”

“That she’s making for you.”

“Well…yes. But there’s something you haven’t considered.”

“What’s that?”

“Shut up.”

Wash calmly walks away starring straight ahead hoping they’ll just give up and go away.

“You’re right, I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“Oh please Simmons.” Grif marches past them to the immediate consternation of Sarge still trying to stay in cover. “Like you’re one to talk. When was the last time you were on a date?”

Wash whips around, “This is not a date!”

“Then there’s no reason we can’t come with!”

Wash puts a hand up in protest, but Grif powers through, with a horrible smugness creeping into his voice, “I mean obviously if this was a _date_ of course you wouldn’t want us to come along!”

Wash starts to feel a trapped sense of frustration bubbling up.

“But, like you just said, it _isn’t_ a date. So there’s no problem.”

“…”

Y’know, Grif’s Hawaiian, if Wash throws him off the cliff too, he’d probably be fine. He may even know how to cliff dive.

When Wash doesn’t have a response, Grif happily marches forward slapping him on the shoulder as he walks past Wash.

“Awesome! Let’s go before the waffles get soggy!” Wash can feel the guys all start to stare at him, Sarge in particular gives him this deep look of pity.

“Lost a battle of wits to a Grif, That’s gotta hurt.”  
  
“Oh go hide in the bush.”

Sarge is old, he won’t survive the cliff. As Wash moves forward, he just tries to remind himself of that.

 

* * *

 

 

Last night, after talking to Tucker he was almost convinced that this guard was just trying to look out for her. Dare ‘Saham, it’s not easy for him to tell on sight, but when you take a closer look at the rigid lines on his skin, the light tinge to his scales, he’s _old_. He might be the oldest Sanghelli Wash’s ever met.

_”this man. Is he another of your regular conquests? Or are you seriously considering him to become your mate?”_

_He_ wanted to be introduced. _He_ asked to come here this morning. He _meant_ what he told her that night, and it’s true.

_“-if he is simply a conquest-”_

At that point Wash notices he’s drifting in and out of the conversation. His mind is still running a thousand miles a minute trying to process what was happening,

_“-potential prospect for your hand-“_

What?

_“-concerns regarding his judgement-”_

_What?_

_“-potential offspring might be affected by his care.”_

_What!?!_

Carolina’s the first to let Tucker know they’re there, putting an end to this spur of the moment humiliation. Church was in a pretty relaxed mood coming into this, that mood seems to fly out the window when he hears _potential offspring_ ,

“Tucker, you’re pregnant again?!”

Church starts demanding some answer with indignant flailing of his little arms. Not that he has any right to judge her for sex Wash _knows_ never happened. They’re not- _she’s_ not pregnant. She’s only been around the Reds and Blues for months, and it’s not one of them-

No. Stop. Look at ‘Saham. You know what they look like when they smile. This is a _play_ , it’s a tactic. Wash’s being baited. He doesn’t know why or for what for, but he knows.

He’ll give them this, if ‘Saham trained them he did a good job. The other night he was able to do a quick head count, on the way over he made his approach as obvious as possible. The Reds and Blues were always a pretty loud distraction which made it a lot easier for them to let their guard down.

They were following them the entire way over, using camouflage to stay in cover. Wash still has a few tricks from his UNSC service. Keeping an eye out for the way the grass moves, feel for the wind blowing in unnatural directions. Sometimes if you’re paying attention you can tell by the way the light moves off their cloak.

The only one he hasn’t seen so far is the big one from last night…Groze. He was either better than Wash could track or he’s inside the ship. Wash doesn’t like either option-oh fuck. Tucker’s looking at him. Fuck, _fuck_. Tucker’s looking at him and this is _easily_ the angriest he’s ever seen her-it’s fine. It’s fine…

“I swear I didn’t invite them.”

It’s not fine, he can tell, he’s dead to her.

Wash has never been so relieved to hear a Sanghelli charge in his _life_. Junior barrels loudly through the ship without an ounce of the training or grace of his guards. Then launches out of the ship like a bat out of hell.

Junior’s about the size of a bear, he’s no where near the full height of a Sanghelli adult but Wash’s certain he’ll get there soon. Whatever reservations he might have about the aliens, Caboose has none of them. Junior rushes him and now he and Junior are playing like long lost brothers.

Wash watches Junior wrestling with Caboose and irrationally, it scares him. He’s wrestled with fully grown adults and it was never a game. But watching this…God, it doesn’t feel right to compare the two.

Caboose’s got him in a bear hug hold, Junior starts wriggling his way free, Junior’s honking, Caboose bends back and they both tumble to the ground. Junior frees himself, but Caboose gets right back on top tickling him. Junior starts wriggling, and the honking keeps on going.

It takes Wash an almost embarrassingly long time to realize it, but the honking is Junior _laughing_. Caboose then hauls Junior up off his feet hugging him to his chest shaking him back and forth.

“Junior! Junior! Oh you are so _fun_ now that you are not biting me!”

“Honk!”

He’s never met a Sanghelli child before Junior. It’s…well he just never pictured what it would look like.

He tries to drown the occasional flash of concern that the actual elites could jump out and kill them at any moment. He tries to focus on the…well he’s not sure he can call it a fight, but he’d do anything to avoid looking at Tucker right now.

She’s ignoring him now, Caboose is distracting her. Wash is relieved but at the same time he also wants to _scream_ at his own stupidity. no matter what he does he can’t seem to get it _right_ with her. He remembers when he went all that time after the…incident, thinking she’d been quietly hating him.

_“He’ll like you better if he’s in a good mood.”_

What does she-No. _No._ That. Is not what he’s doing right now. Right now, he’s...he’s just spending time with his friends. It’s just not as easy as he’d like it to be.

Every time he hears a cloaked Sangheili move he can feel himself tense up. He ends up silently reviewing his UNSC training, his old CO’s voice ringing in the background of his every thought. Then he watches Junior triumphantly sit on top of Caboose for the win.

Wash can’t help feel a rush of shame. It’s not fair to Tucker.

None of it’s fair.

But it’s also not a habit he breaks. Junior lets out a loud “Blargh!” And leads Caboose inside the ship by the hand. Tucker runs after them from behind, telling them in an alarmingly maternal way,

_“No roughhousing indoors!”_

Everyone follows them in, Grif keeps sniffing like he’ll find the food faster. Carolina hangs back with him. They don’t speak, but it’s obvious she feels as out of place as he does. He’s not even sure Carolina knew Tucker had a kid before the other night. He thinks back to the time on the hologram field, and he wonders if she still _would’ve_ pointed a gun at her if she did.

Carolina hasn’t brought it up once, it could be she’s just forgotten about it, or maybe she doesn’t know how to talk about it. Wash just knows for sure he had no idea what to say. Back when he’d first gotten out of jail he would’ve done anything to keep from going back. He didn’t even know Tucker back then. He does know, if she’d gotten in his way at the time, he would’ve shot her.

He had a bad habit of _doing_ before _thinking_ growing up. He used to think that as he got older he’d learned to reign that in. Between Freelancer and Recovery One, all that made him realize that part of him never changed, just sunk a bit beneath the surface.

Tucker didn’t deserve what Carolina pulled back then. Or Church pulled this morning-

_“Tucker, I don’t think your son’s a monster.”_

Or, what he’s doing now.

Wash watches the Reds and Blues help with breakfast and tries not to seem like he’s got nothing to do. He can’t take it after the first five minutes so he gets up to stretch his legs.

He slips away without being noticed. He doesn’t get far before he hears the faint steps of a Sanghelli following him. The elite are known for their incredible stealth capabilities. Why can Wash hear him now?  
  
_“I wish to speak with you agent Washington.”_

He’s not cloaked. He’s not cloaked Wash just has his back to him. He wasn’t sneaking up. He turns around and sees Dare ‘Saham Junior’s...Nanny.

He takes an inaudible breathe and nods,

“Sure.” The calmer and more reasonable he sounds, the better. He doesn’t totally believe Tucker when she says they can be trusted, a small part of him wishes he does, but he doesn’t. Which is exactly why he has to make it clear he’s not afraid. He’s not taking the bait.

‘Saham’s got lighter skin then others he’s seen, there are clear scars along his neck that seem to trail into his armour. Wash doesn’t dare look away from his eyes, they’re dark, but centred with thick lines cascading from them.

The nanny gestures with his hand for him to walk with him. He complies, right now, they’re just having a normal conversation. Nothing’s wrong, just a talk. When they’re get far enough that ‘Saham is satisfied he nods.

 _“That is far enough. We will not be overhead.”_  Wash regards him sceptically,

“Something you don’t want to share with the group?”

_“Lady Verna informs me you are to be trusted.”_

Wash feels a very old wave of deja vu rearing his head,

_“I have not yet come to that conclusion myself.”_

He looks Wash up and down, if he makes some sort of assessment, he doesn’t seem pleased with it,

_“You overheard me speaking with Lady Verna earlier. Rest assured I am aware the two of you are not together.”_

Wash raises his chin and digs his heels in,

“Then why ask?”

_“Firstly, I enjoy teasing her from time to time.”_

Well…ok, that he didn’t see coming, ‘Saham continues,

_“Secondly, Lady Verna is normally very direct with her intentions. I had no reason to believe I would go unanswered.”_

Well…yeah, that was a little weird. Sure, Wash was a little…shaken when he overheard them, but Tucker’s sense of shame is normally bullet proof…and she _isn’t_ _pregnant_.

_“I am still not quite sure as to why she did not answer me.”_

Wash puts it together slowly,

“But you think I know?”

‘Saham watches him intensely, and instead of flashing back to basic, he’s suddenly reminded of one of the older prison guards from his jail. “No… it’s more than that.” Wash’s voice drops low and quiet,

“You think I did something to her.”

‘Saham watches him, but doesn’t disagree, a wave of outrage pours into Wash. That he thinks Wash would do something when he’s the one-

_“I believe you **will** do something.”_

There’s just silence for a moment.

“Fuck you.”

‘Saham’s been watching him. Since before he showed himself on that stage, maybe he hasn’t stopped watching since. Wash feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as ‘Saham leans in,

 _“If I believed you would harm her, there would be no one to speak with at present.”_ Dare’s voice gets colder, _“Agent Washington, is there something you feel guilty for?”_  Wash stares him down, then forces himself to gear down a few notches and consider what he’s said. If he doesn’t think she’s hurt-

“She’s not pregnant.”

_“I know.”_

“She’s _not_. It’s not possible. She hasn’t-we haven’t done anything that could cause that. I wouldn’t do that to her.” He’s suddenly losing all composure at the worst possible moment, _shit_ where’s a car to come hit him when he needs it?

 _“Agent Washington. I know.”_ Wash looks at him bizarrely,

“You know?”

_“Lady Verna has had us fetch monthly supplies for her since returning to us.”_

What does that-Oh… _oh_ … Wash shouldn’t know that. Dare watches him carefully,

 _“It seems if you have done something, you are unaware of it.”_  ‘Saham watches him for another minute and nods, _“I accept this.”_ Wash stares back evenly, there’s no way that’s it,

“This is what you wanted? Catch me off guard, see what I do?” ‘Saham lets out a very Sangheili noise,

 _“I have already seen ‘what you do’ two of my guards were disabled in by you freelancers.”_  ‘Saham’s got this new look on his face, he goes through the handful of Sangheili faces he knows trying to figure out what it means, but he’s not fast enough.

_“You were positioned to shoot me when I first appeared.”_

Wash tenses and unconsciously starts looking for weak points in his armour, “Your point?” ‘Saham’s lower jaws ebb in and out,

_“You were also prepared to lay down your weapon when Lady Verna needed you to. At the time, I assumed I would need to disarm you myself. I was surprised to see you willingly surrender your weapon.”_

  
“Would it have done any good if I hadn’t?”

“ _No_.”

‘Saham watches him carefully, Wash can’t tell if he’s looking for a weakness, or if this is some sort of alien thing he’s not in on but he’s getting tired of it. So he just starts with the obvious,

“Tucker doesn’t have enough training to defend herself against Sanghelli.”

_“We have trained her with the sword.”_

“She isn’t there yet.” Wash insists, because she’s not, he’s seen her stab the Meta, but that was a sneak attack, she had the reds distracting him. He’ seen what the elite can do, it’s no question, she wouldn’t be able to get away, let alone protect her son.

‘Saham, in an alarmingly close to human way, nods in agreement.

_“No. Not yet. That is what I assumed you would say.”_

“Then why bother asking?” If this is Dare’s way of teasing Wash he will get a series of pulleys and eventually drag ‘Saham off the cliff.

_“I believe it is important to be direct with one’s intentions. Lady Verna agrees with this philosophy, it is why we are able to trust one another. Directness, even at the cost of propriety.”_

Wash has spent most of his life trying and failing to protect the people he cares about. Basic was a disaster, his military career went down in flames, freelancer was a nightmare he _still_ hasn’t totally recovered from.

“Tell that to the Covenant.”

He’d be lying if he didn’t blame them for starting the avalanche.

‘Saham’s mood shifts, he runs through the times he’s seen Sangheili do this, and every time it’s been on the battlefield. They get stiff, the dig in their feet and let off those loud battle cries trying to intimidate their enemies.

‘Saham doesn’t yell, there’s no battle cry, but he can see unmistakable fury in the alien’s eyes.

_“For the sake of directness, I have as much animosity towards the Covenant’s decision to wage war on humanity as you.”_

Wait. What?

 _“Agent Washington, I was at war with humans for as long as you were at war with Sangheili. I understand what it looks like to despise one’s enemy.”_  Dare’s expression changes, his lower jaws come together tightly,

“ _The_ _war_ _was_ _costly_ , _and_ _unnecessary_. _The_ _false_ _prophets_ _led_ _my_ _people_ _to_ _battle_ , _and_ _in_ _doing_ _so_ _they_ _taught_ _my_ _son_ _butchery_.” Wash unconsciously moves back a step, like he needs a better look at ‘Saham.

“You have a son?”

_“No.”_

He could mean so many different things by that, Wash’d really rather not know the answer. He unconsciously pictures Junior the night of the medal ceremony. Back on the stage, how Junior ran to ‘Saham honking as loudly as he could pointing at Tucker as though he wasn’t just _touching_ her.

_“I spent a life time of praying to prophets who were never listening. I fought, and slowly died for a cause that was never worthy of the sacrifices it asked for.”_

His men. His _Parents_. York. North-

 _“Now, instead of praying, I listen to Lady Verna sing her son to sleep.”_  
  
…Tucker sings?

 _“I am old. Too old to continue a war that should never have begun.”_  ‘Saham lowers himself to Wash’s eye level,

_“Lay down your weapon agent. Lady Verna needs you today as well.”_

“…” 

He goes back to brunch.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I know I’ve been off about a half days time lately, but I feel much much more confident I can actually get the next chapter out by Sunday.
> 
> Hopefully not past midnight Sunday. ;)


	7. One ship takes off, the other crashes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tah Dah! Not at midnight! You’ve got the whole evening to enjoy! Also, from now on, I’m updating on Fridays. See before, I had a bunch already done on each of the chapters, now I’m essentially writing from scratch. So I’m gonna need the week.
> 
> But I do promise, I’ll do my best to keep updating consistently. I’ve been-and still am a reader who waits for fan fiction writers to either finish or just continue there stories. I’ve been there, I want to be there for you guys.

They get orders to go back to their base in Valhalla. Junior’s boarding school’s is already started up for the semester, because of the medal ceremony and their mini vacation he’s already running a few days behind schedule.

“ _Blaargh!_ ” Junior’s hugging tight to her with a neediness he’s normally too proud to show in front of his guards. She leans into the hug, trying not to make it worse by bursting into tears.

“I know baby. I know.” Her voice is soft, she’s trying to make it as comforting as she can but she can tell, he’s really not ready to say goodbye yet. She makes a silent vow to call more often, no matter what.  
  
_“Lady Verna, it is time.”_  She nods at him and pats Junior’s shoulder.

“C’mon buddy.” She pulls away and kisses his forehead, “Once you’re there, and you get to see all your friends, I promise, you’ll feel much better.” It’s hard, it’s so fucking hard not to just _grab_ _him_ , refuse to let go, and then tell them he’s dropping out of school.

She knows she can’t do that. The boarding school idea was hers, and it works. The school’s a mix of human and Sanghelli, he gets friends his age that show him what it’s like for both sides. It’s important that he has a childhood away from being the Sanghelli’s great savior.

She wants to go with him, _so bad_. But the reds and blues got orders from the UNSC. Part of her being the Sanghelli ambassador means she stays on base in case she’s needed to play diplomat. Which means she stays with the Reds and Blues.

Dare touches her arm gently, _“You have my word, he will be taken care of.”_  She nods, she knows that, Dare’s the alien Grandpa she never knew she needed. When Junior was still a baby and she had no idea what she was doing, he basically taught her how to be a mom. Still doesn’t make it easy not to be there herself. She looks to Junior one more time,

“I love you.” Junior starts to cry his lower jaws are trembling,

“Blargh!”

_Mama_

Tucker’s about to lose it, she looks to Dare, he takes the cue and leads Junior into their ship. Groze looks at her quietly before taking up the rear. So then Tucker watches the ship close up hatch and take off.

She has to take very deep breathes, and starts thinking about baboons in bras. It’s her go to mental image to keep herself from crying.

When she pulls herself together, miraculously without breaking down into tears, she needs to head back to pack. She turns around and Carolina’s there. She’s more than a little surprised, if there’s a list of the last people she thought would come find her-

“So, the little monster’s gone?” Ah. There’s second to last. Church appears on Carolina’s shoulder leaning his tiny, intangible, elbow against her neck. She refuses to cry in front of Church. She won’t.

“Yea. Whatever. It’s fine. I’ll see him soon.”

“I’m sure you will.” She gives him a suspicious look,

“What? You’re trying to be nice now?”

“Doesn’t sound like me.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t.”

“Oh fuck you-”

“Church!” Carolina snaps at him shortly. Church flinches awkwardly and tries again. She can practically hear his holographic teeth grinding.

“What I mean is. Are. You. O.k?” God, it sounds like it hurts to ask. Tucker looks to Carolina questioningly. Carolina shrugs,

“We figured this’d be pretty tough for you. Church wanted to know you were ok.” Church has his hands on his hips looking away awkwardly. Tucker only glances at Church, she’s mostly focusing on Carolina.

“Church wanted to know I’m ok?” Tucker asks sceptically. Guys being uncomfortable admitting they care she’s used to, but with Carolina it’s a genuine question if she does. What, Carolina’s suddenly her guardian angel or something?

Carolina shrugs casually, “You two just seem close. You and your son I mean. It…must be nice.”

Fuck, her eyes are getting watery, she tucks in her head, goes back to the slow deep breathes and forcing it all down. “We just… we _just_ spent all this time apart. It’s hard letting him go now.” Carolina nods,

“You never mentioned...” She trails off uneasily, “Well. I guess you did. I just wasn’t hearing it.” There’s a heavy amount of guilt in her tone. Tucker looks up at that, and notices for the first time what Carolina looks like when she feels awkward.

Tucker never exactly had a glowing opinion of Carolina. Other than stealing up all of Church’s time, bossing her around, or the time she pulled gun on her, they didn’t really talk. This is the first time Tucker’s seen her when she didn’t have something more important on her mind. It’s like she actually wants to know how Tucker’s doing.

“No one likes hearing baby stories.” She’s trying to lighten the mood, it seems to work just a bit when Carolina raises her head, so she keeps going. “Seriously, I don’t even like it. I only _tell_  the stories. If you had a kid, I promise, I’d have blocked you out just as hard.”

That gets Carolina to laugh, just a bit. It’s a little rusty, Carolina seems a little surprised at it herself. Somehow, it makes Tucker feel like she wants to cry less.

 

* * *

 

  
So Carolina turns out to be pretty cool actually. Her life has basically been one long stretched out “Eye of the Tiger” training montage interrupted by the Death Star blowing up in her face. Once you get past the betrayal issues, temper, and general bitterness, she’s actually pretty funny.

Carolina also apparently a quick study at bugging church with sexual innuendos so half way through the walk back they’ve bullied church into a near fever pitch. At this point Tucker’s talking herself out of proposing on the spot. They want different things, it’d never work.

“What’s the matter Church? Don’t tell me we’re _riding_ _you_ too hard.” Carolina’s fucking gold at this by the way. Hidden fucking talent right under the surface.

“Bow-Chika-Bow-Wow.” Tucker’s said that maybe six times already. It keeps pissing Church off more and more. Carolina cracks up every time Church tries and fails to ignore them. Tucker goes next following Carolina’s lead.

“Because Church if it is too _hard_ for you, don’t worry, it’s perfectly normal for guys to get a little _overstimulated_ if it’s been a while.” She pauses for dramatic effect, “If they haven’t had a good _riding_ in a while I mean.” Carolina laughs cruelly as Church growls refusing to look at either of them.

He’s sitting on Carolina’s shoulder so dramatically it’s fucking hilarious. This is the first time since she was a teenager she’s had a girlfriend-a friend who’s a girl, to fuck around with-to be a friend. Carolina goes next, sporting an uncharacteristic but very welcome ease to her stride,

“If you think we’re being unfair don’t worry. We can always go _ride_ _each_ _other_ if you-”

“Bow-Chika-”

“THAT’S IT! THAT’S IT! I’M DONE!” They’re approaching the rest of the guys and the second Church is in range he flies off to Wash disappearing into his suit. Wash looks ludicrously at his chest piece.

“Church? What-” Church pops out of Wash’s suit and hides behind his neck,

“Wash! _Wash_. Don’t make me go back there! I _can’t!_  I can’t fucking take it anymore! They’re _bonding_! It’s the end of the fucking world!” Wash looks to them bewildered,

‘What’d you do to him?” They exchange a look, Tucker can’t fucking help _giggling_ but Carolina’s got her back,

“Not much.” Wash eyes them suspiciously, full on freelancer paranoid,

“Not much? Epsilon was tortured by professionals and I’ve never seen him like this.”

She hasn’t laughed this hard since Wash asked about Junior for the first time. She smiles at him more gleefully and innocently then she ever has before.

“We just talked.” Tucker winks at him, “Nothing worse than what I’ve said to you.” Carolina finds that _hysterical_ , and then they’re both cracking up.

Wash stares bizarrely at them, as if he’s watching some kind of sick alien experiment gone horribly wrong. Then, after a few stunned moments, looks to his shoulder, Church pops up wringing his hands, tiny holographic visor pleading with him desperately.

“…You can stay with me until they get…” He gestures openly to the two of them, “ _this_ out of their system.”

“Oh thank fucking Christ.” Now Church is trying not to cry. God she needed this.

 

* * *

 

  
God she doesn’t _fucking_ need this.

She doesn’t remember the ship falling out of space, she doesn’t remember how she hit her head, she doesn’t remember how she landed upside down on a piece of the ship’s outer hull, she doesn’t remember her own fucking _name_. But she remembers that.

She really does not fucking need this shit right now. She promised herself this time she’d call everyday. Now she’s stuck dealing with a spaceship crash of all things, and who knows how long he’ll have to wait for her this time?!

“-ucker!? TUCKER!” She’s still feeling a little stunned from the impact, but it’s wearing off fast, and the searing pain is setting in, lacing itself all throughout her nerves. Her head is _pounding_ , but she does hear the tail end of the yelling.

She lets off what she hopes, -but can’t really tell- is a loud moan. She’s too fucked up for words, she’s pretty sure so long as they hear her there’s no need to be articulate about it.

“TUCKER!” She tries to crane her neck to see who’s yelling at her now, but she can’t. It hurts too bad and in the back of her head she thinks she should probably keep her neck straight anyways.

She feels gloved hands only just barely brush against her shoulder and then dart back more quickly than she can watch. She thinks she made some kind of “ _no_ ” sound. She’s starting to see red and the edges of her vision are going dark.

Then there’s just this _miraculous_ feeling that floods through her entire body all at once. She thinks at first maybe this is what dying feels like if you’re going to heaven. Then she wonders if she’s really ever done anything worth getting into heaven.

There’s Junior but she’s not sure that’s the right religion.

So she rules it out and decides someone must’ve pumped her up with drugs. The good shit, the kind that rich white people do, and then pay out a fortune not to go to jail for. She feels so _good_ , she takes in a deep breathe, it’s shaky at first, but she can just fucking _feel_ her chest heal as she goes.

Something _stings_ deep in her chest no matter how she breathes, but that’s the worst of it.

“Tucker?” It’s the voice again. It’s softer now and she knows she _knows_ who’s talking to her, but her head’s getting all fogged up like she’s on an acid trip. Her neck feels just a bit looser now so she tries to turn to the voice again.

She starts to giggle, oh god what the hell’s this guy’s problem? He looks like he’s at someone’s _funeral_. Just starring at her like she’ll break into a thousand little pieces the second he looks away. All serious and damaged and… and _cute_. God damn how has she not noticed how fucking cute this guy is?

Fuck is she at a bar? If she is that totally explains the high she’s on right now. The guy’s got a scar on his lower lip that’s really doing it for her right now. She’s about to tell him but she slowly realizes he’s been talking this whole time.  
  
“-going to be ok. I promise. The impact did a lot of damage but your suit was designed to take the worst of the blow. Now all you have to do is stay still and let the healing unit do it’s job.” She tries to focus on his face, hoping she can remember his name. Then maybe her own. 

“Tucker. Tucker can you understand me at all? Can you respond?” God, cutie’s starting to sound _desperate_ , someone that hot should never be that desperate. Fuck. Something really is wrong. She tries to tell him that but her throat hurts too bad.

“ _Ughn.”_

Hell, that’s kind of close. He just looks at her a while longer and then stands up. She’s not sure where he’s going but if she could move she’d be reaching for him. _Don’t_ _go_ , she wants to tell him. She tries to get up, but the most she can do is flop on her side a little.

It brings him back to her in a second, “ _Tucker_! Don’t. Move. We don’t know how badly you were hurt.” Tucker. Tucker? Right. Right, that’s her. Now what’s his name?

She blacks out before she finds out. The last thing she feels is a pair of warm, solid arms wrapping around her legs and shoulders.

 

* * *

 

 

  
When Tucker wakes up she doesn’t wake up brain first, it’s all just pain first. The glorious toe curling high is gone. All that’s left is this aching weakness all along her limbs, this awful stiffness down her spine and pounding against her skull.

Tucker tries to remember what happened, she remembers lying outside somewhere else in pain and suddenly she’s in a bed-

Wait. Who’s bed is she in?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. There was a high, there was a guy, now there’s a bed-she bolts straight up and looks around. Oh thank god-Oh fuck her _head_. She got up too fast and now she’s seeing double.

Tucker overstated it, it’s not really a bed, it’s a cot with some sheets, and she’s not in someone’s bedroom like she thought. It’s just a cot in some kind of make shift base. Oh…Oh right. Right. Wash. He…oh fuck she’s almost got it.

There was a ship, and there was that cute pilot, Tucker got her number, the pilot-Lindsey, got all shy and her hand slipped against her panel-

Oh.

Oh. _Damn_. What’d she do?

The ship crashed-she’s just gonna power through that no need to make any assumptions- then…she was hurt, and then Wash…must’ve given her pain killers or something right? I mean how else is she ok?

Tucker can hear loud thumping closing in on her, “Tucker! You’re ok!” Oh fuck. He survived. Lord almighty how did he survive? She tilts her head back and covers her eyes unhappily.

“Hey Caboose.” Caboose rushes over, hauling a ridiculously heavy looking crate of supplies in one arm. Damn, every now and again she forgets how strong he is.

“Tucker! Tucker! Good! You are up. Now you can help us!” Tucker gives him a look,

“Caboose, I just got up, help with what?”

“Survival.”

Oh God, that dramatic motherfucker, no one else talks like that. Tucker pulls off the covers and swings her feet off the bed, she’s a little embarrassed by the dumb question but she asks it anyways.

“The ship crashed?” Wash nods,

“Yes. It did.” Wash takes off his helmet and looks her up and down. Normally she’d be flattered, but he’s just so clinical about it she can’t fucking enjoy it. “You ok? You got knocked around pretty hard.”

She would shrug, but it’d hurt too bad, “Ugh, I feel like I did after my last visit with Karma.” She starts to get up but feels herself buckle a bit. Wash’s there in a single step. He gets a grip on her shoulder and helps to steady her,

“Easy. The healing unit took care of the worst of the damage, but you still need to take it slow.” She touches a hand to her forehead, she feels rough and achey. Wash picks up on it and turns to Caboose, “Go grab the med kit. Just in case.”

“Ok.” He loudly marches off, hopping over the scraped piece of hull that came off the plane. She shakes her head, but it only creates this pinching pain right between her eyes.

“Healing Unit?” It’s not exactly a hang over, but it’s also really not pleasant.

“A piece of Freelancer tech. I keep it on me at all times. Just in case.” Tucker’s not exactly sure where they are, but honestly, she doesn’t really care. She just needs a minute to get her head together,

“I think I’m cool.” She pokes her head up, curiously, “Who else made it out?” Wash doesn’t answer for a second, visibly deflating as he answers her,

“The Reds and Carolina, but no one else.” There’s a second where she forgets how to breathe. She remembers how hard she was trying to memorize Lindsey’s number when it happened. The only thing she had to write it down on was her son’s picture, and she hasn’t crossed that line yet.

Lindsey seemed a little shy, but she was pretty in that way where it was like she’d never even noticed she was pretty. She blushed so easy at any little compliment Tucker gave her.

What the fuck did she do?

Wash squeezes her shoulder, snapping her out of it, “You ok?” Tucker shrugs once,

“Not really.” There were a lot of people on that ship. There must’ve been hundreds. A big fucking military transport, she guiltily remembers complaining about how crowded the ship was when that fucker with the dark green armour bumped into her.

Wash is watching her, there’s this… _thing_ that feels like it’s about to happen but she doesn’t know what it is exactly. Later she’ll think she made this up, some flash of neediness that made her think he was more concerned then he actually was.

But she swears, for just the length of a heartbeat she thinks he’s going to hold her.  
  
“Hello!”

“Gah!”

They both scream. Wash bounds backwards like he was never there and Tucker falls back onto the cot landing unceremoniously on her ass. Tucker hisses out in pain and snaps on Caboose,

“Caboose! What the hell?!” Fuck is she still catching her breathe? That scared the living shit out of her.

“I found medicine!” Caboose proudly lifts a med kit to eye level. Holy fuck, he actually got it on the first try. Wash stares at Caboose for a minute,

“Right. Right. The med kit. Right.” He looks at Tucker too quickly for her to look him back and then focuses on Caboose. “Tucker was right. I don’t think she needs it just yet but let’s keep it here in plain sight. That way we know where it is if we need it.”

“Okay.” Caboose stares at them for a minute,

“Were you hugging?”

They answer at the same time,

“No!”

Caboose looks at them both quietly for a moment.

“Does… anyone _want_ to hug?”

“Caboose go build a fort out of crates!”

“OK!” Caboose merrily charges away with the crate he left there before.

“No! Wait! Caboose! We’re going to need those supplies!”

Tucker watches as Caboose tosses the crate in his hands, what must be fifty feet out of their makeshift base, directly on top of two others outside. Caboose pumps his fists in the air victoriously,

“Fort!”

Wash charges after him yelling about taking inventory of their remaining equipment.

Tucker groans and lays back on the cot. Fuck this, they can wake her up when they’re rescued.

 

* * *

 

   
Wash has other ideas for her.

The second he declares her back at full strength he’s constantly on her for every little thing. Helping him get the shelter weather proofed, rationing their food, finding clean drinking water-

Ok. Ok fine. It’s important, but he’s a huge dick about it, so fuck him. Wash’s constantly looking over his shoulder, like something’s gonna leap out and bite him any second. It’s making him irritable as hell which means he’s impossible to live with.

When he’s not doing constant perimeter checks he’s getting her to do them and then getting angry at her for not doing them right. Then when they’ve finally got their base set up, food straightened out for the next few months, and Caboose miraculously finds a crate of bottled water in the back of the ships wreckage-

Then he gets hell bent to play drill instructor. Suddenly he’s constantly harping on her and Caboose about survival tactics. Tucker only just barely remembers the survival training she got in basic. Essentially nothing about the actual act of _surviving_ ; but she does remember the instructor informing them all about how dealing with the trauma is half the battle.

Tucker decides to deal with it, by not fucking dealing with it. Can’t regret what you don’t acknowledge. The guys weren’t badly hurt-apparently she drew that short straw on that-but even she’ll admit they’re still far from out of the woods.

Wash apparently deals with it by being a jumpy tyrant.

He’s been getting them up at the crack of dawn for training like they’re still at war or something. The first week was easily the most miserable, Caboose takes to it like a little kid playing on an obstacle course but Tucker hasn’t done this crap since basic.

Crap. No, she didn’t even do this in basic, she started screwing her drill sergeant a coupe days in and he gave her a pass. In retrospect that may have been why she got stuck on blue team.

She’s _exhausted_. Worse, she’s not sure what Junior knows at this point. If she’s lucky, which she isn’t, they’ll get rescued before he ever hears about it. More likely they’ll hear her ship went down right away and Junior’s gonna be convinced she died in the crash. Officially making her the _worst_ Mom ever.

 She just wants to bully Church a little, recharge her batteries, forget her problems. Tucker hasn’t seen him since he checked in on her with Carolina the first day they got wrecked. It’s been a while, now since anyone’s seen them. Carolina was known for pulling the lone wolf act sure, but she’d kind of felt like they’d started _bonding_ or some shit.

Kind of stung neither of them had any time for her.

“Hey Tucker?” Caboose is looking over her shoulder curiously. Fuck she does not have time for him. Wash stuck her with picking out parts that may be useful for fixing the radio tower they’ve found. Not that she has any fucking idea what she’s looking for.

“Yeah Caboose?”

“Where’s Church?”She bites out a reply,

“How the fuck should I know?” Caboose nods quietly,

“Yeah… You’re not even his best friend.” He shifts gears from this glum pouty thing that’s become his new normal to stupidly happy, “Like me! I-I shouldn’t ask you questions that make you feel stupid.” Oh God she’s gonna hit him,

“ _Stupid_ Tucker.”

Tucker throws down whatever the hell she was holding-looked like a circuit board with it’s dick out- and stands up turning on Caboose,

“That’s it! I’m-”

“Tucker!” God Damnit! What now? “Have you made any progress at all yet!?” Wash calls out from on top of the tower, she yells back,

“I have no idea what any of this is! Of course I haven’t made any progress! Caboose has a better chance of figuring this crap out!” Caboose tilts his head up proudly,

“Well I’m sure that was hard to admit.’” Tucker turns on him,

“Caboose not now!” Oh fuck this. It’s hard enough not being around Junior and she’s not about to put up with Caboose on top of that. Which is of course how Wash psychically knows when to start laying into her-

Bow-Chika-Bow-Wow.

“Tucker!”

Oh crap.

“-Until we get rescued, the radio tower is our first priority. It’s our only means of signalling for help!” Oh god. This again, like she hasn’t heard this a hundred times now. But somehow the speech is still so important to Wash that he climbs the entire way down just to get in her face.

He’s driving her up the freaking wall. She can’t take much more of this, he’s been wound so _fucking_ _tight_ since they’ve been stranded and it’s killing her. He gets no sleep, he’s paranoid as fuck and worse it’s ruining her life!

Dude seriously needs to just get _laid_ -

Tucker freezes. she stares at Wash for a minute. His hands are on his hips and there’s practically steam coming out of his ears. She utterly tuned him out after he started talking about the radio tower. He’s mad, but he always is, so she ignores all that to look Wash up and down.

Wash hasn’t gone without his armour since the crash. The sun’s getting a little low and it makes Tucker remember the way he looked when he asked to meet Junior for the first time. Campfire light clashing against blues and yellows.

“Tucker are you even listening!?”

Then, a little more intentionally reminds herself what he looked like in the shower.

Oh _hell_ yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And thanks for those of you leaving comments! It really means a lot to me to get feed back.


	8. Wash misses the point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -rushes in the room half dressed, hair a mess and with a toothbrush in her mouth-
> 
> I’m late. I’m late. I am. I am committed to posting Fridays, I watch RVB every week I GET what it’s like to be waiting up for new posts and what it feels like to have to wait longer than the content creator said they would. 
> 
> I am sorry.
> 
> The last few days have been hellish. I’d have much rather been doing this. 
> 
> Hey, I rewatched the 11th season, Wash built the tower, I rewrote stuff.
> 
> I’m here now.

Wash has vague memories of his first week in boot camp. They’re a blur of angry yelling, mud, blind exhaustion and endless bellowing from his former drill sergeant. To be honest he thinks that the reason he has a hard time recalling it all is that he’s blocked it out.

When the time came for his first mission however, he didn’t disobey a single order.

As a result, he survived.

He was young, he was so much younger than he thought he was back then. _All_ of his instincts would tell him to jump into every battlefield and to take every risk at the first chance. Without checking his six, without checking for trip wires, without _thinking_ as he moved. Wash knows how far he’s come, but as a private, he had some _very_ stupid instincts.

Not that he would ever let the reds and blues know. Getting Tucker and Caboose in line is difficult enough. Caboose never _focuses_ , and Tucker is insubordinate and lazy.

They don’t need a blooper reel undercutting his every order.

Joining the army taught him how to survive as an individual. But getting promoted, getting put in charge of others changed him. What he did _mattered_ because what he did affected his men now.

If he were to look back on his life honestly, most of the hardest regrets in his life aren’t the things he’s done, it’s trusting the wrong people to follow. The CO that would’ve squandered his men on a suicide mission, the _Director_ , the Counsellor.

Now, he’s finally got people stupid enough to trust, he’s got a squad, he’s got blue team, and he’s not letting a damn thing touch them.

This is why they have to train. To be ready.

Caboose, physically speaking may be the strongest man Wash has ever met. He also may be the most confused, and the sweetest. Wash hasn’t found a drill, or exercise Caboose doesn’t know how to blow past in record time. He’s also got the killer instinct of a kitten with a flower petal on its nose. The issue is getting him to focus, and then _keeping_ that focus.

Then there’s Tucker.

She’s got an entirely different problem. Tucker’s slow, undisciplined, and doesn’t take her training seriously. Even worse she has the truly huge disadvantage of poor endurance. Tucker is a quick sprinter, but she’s only got one wind, once it blows out, she’s done.

Tucker just assumes she can coast on her teams’ efforts and whatever impossible risk in front of her she just assumes will work out. She doesn’t look before she leaps, and that is _frustratingly_ close to home.

Unlike Wash however, she’s got a surprising natural talent for close combat. It took a long time, and a lot of work to get where he is in knife fighting, he never had a trace of talent at the beginning.

Tucker on the other hand, has _weirdly_ great spatial awareness and solid reflexes. She’s got a lightness to her step he’s never had, and she takes to fighting dirty _a_ _lot_ faster than he did at that stage in training.

Tucker seems to _know_ that, and she takes it for granted. So, somehow the thing that makes her adequate is also keeping her from getting better.

One battle at a time.

“Caboose, buddy? What are you doing?”

“Looking for Church.”

“I’m four feet away. You don’t need a sniper scope to see me…and you really shouldn’t be pointing that right in my face.”

Caboose found Church’s sniper rifle, that’s not great as a start, but it only gets worse when he uses it as a telescope. He’s been getting harder and harder to deal with every day now, Church and Carolina running off really did a number on him.

“Oh, I know… I just thought it might help me find him…because he’s so tiny now.” Wash closes his eyes for a second, drawing up any reserves of patience he still has,

“Ok, Caboose, first of all-” Wash swiftly grabs the sniper rifle by the nozzle rips it forward stepping smoothly out of the way, with his other hand he twists Caboose’s grip loose from the trigger and then secures the gun with both hands.

“Hey.” Caboose warns, “No fair.”

“Just a preventative measure.”

Ok, that’s out of the way. Wash pops the bullet out of the chamber with the ease of any other veteran. Then for good measure he snaps the safety in place.

Wash hands Caboose back the gun. He wants to be a good leader; first step is to not let Caboose shoot him. Which at the very least gave him one over on Church.

“Where’s Tucker?” It’s early, but he’s made it clear when and where they’re supposed to meet in the morning for training. Tucker’s made a habit of being late, making him go get her every morning.  
  
“Oh, she’s still in her room.” Alright. That’s three times this week, they’re starting with suicide sprints this morning.

“Caboose, start today’s training by stacking the crates. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Ok.” Caboose runs off merrily as Wash fumes towards Tucker’s room he hears Caboose cry-

“Fort!”

…Wash really should teach Caboose what a fort is.

 

* * *

 

   
When Tucker was still recovering, Wash decided it would be best if blue team started bunking in the same space together. That way if there was some sort of emergency they’d be right there. But after being on the same team with Tucker for so long he’s started to realize that if Tucker doesn’t have a private space nearby, she changes in front of them.

So Wash took the liberty to set up some sheets for her.

It’s a small section of the makeshift base with sheets strung up in a square. He can hear her snoring from outside the sheets, and he feels the reserves of patience he had for Caboose spiralling down the drain. Caboose, is at least _trying_ , Tucker’s made it clear she couldn’t care less.

He’s had enough of this. Tucker was going to learn how to be a true soldier if he had to drag her down to the training grounds himself.

…He doesn’t mean that.

But he _is_ going to drag her out of bed.

“Tucker! Rise and shine! You’re late for training!”

She groans, there’s no more snoring but he doesn’t hear movement. Not good enough.

“Alright! That’s it! I’m coming in!” He pulls back the sheets letting the light in. Tucker folds in on herself. She’s wrapped up completely in her emergency blanket he can’t even see her face.

“Up private!” He snatches away the blanket with one fluid movement-

Oh God she’s naked.

Oh _God_ it’s happening again.

 _Oh_ _God_ _turn_ _around!_

Wash whips around and covers his eyes with a mortifying sense of déjà vu.

“Tucker! For the love of _God!_  Why are you naked!?”

Tucker lets out an incoherent but unapologetic groan in response.

Wash can hear movement on the bed but he is not turning around. He is _not_ doing this again.

After the _incident_ , he’d done his best to repress the…things he saw. But every now and again, it still creeps up on him. It’s had a tendency of popping up at the _worst_ _possible_ _moments_. Largely because Tucker brings it up so often.

The instance of total silence when he first walked in, the warm mist from the showers, that just standing near the water felt so _good_ after such an awful day. Seeing her as _her_ for the first time.

That slow _easy_ grin that rebounded from a half second of surprise. She had suds in her hair and down her-

 _Lock_ _it_ _down_ _soldier_.

“Tucker!” Fuck. Wash can feel his face running hot and it’s…too _fucking_ _early_ for the day to go this wrong. “ _Tucker!_  Suit up! You’re already late for training, you should be warming up by now!”

“ _Mhmm_ …” He can’t see her but he imagines the completely unashamed tone means she’s power posing behind him.

“I dunno Wash, how about instead you slip off that heavy armour and we _warm_ _up_ a little in bed.”

  
_What?_

 _Lock_. _It_. _Down_. _Soldier_.

He takes a deep breathe and reviews what he knows about Tucker.

Flirting means she’s comfortable.

She _will_ let you know when she’s angry, you’ve seen what that looks like. Wash feels a tug on the blanket and his entire body jumps involuntarily.

“You coming or what?” She beckons, and Wash can practically hear the childish grin on her face. He can _feel_ what she’s about to-

“Bow-Chika-Bow-Wow!”

Wash takes a deep breathe, counts to three and slowly reminds himself he’s _in_ _charge_ of her, that she’s his _responsibility_. He tosses the blanket backwards on top of her, Tucker lets out a muffled yelp, so he’s pretty sure it lands on her face.

“Nice try. But I’m not doing this twice, and you are _not_ getting out of training. Suit up. If you’re not outside in five minutes, we’re not just doing suicide sprints this morning. You’re doing them until we’re rescued.”

Tucker yells through the blanket,

“Dude! What the Hell?!”

Wash walks forward closing the curtains without looking, “Let’s go private Tucker! You have five minutes! Every second you’re late is another lap!”

Wash walks off as quickly as he can without looking like he’s running from her.

 

* * *

 

Jesus fucking _Christ_.

He rushes outside towards Caboose, involuntarily remembering _even more_  about that night. The easy teasing, the smooth tones in her voice…

The annoyed deadpan when he asked her over and over why she was _suddenly_ a girl. Tucker was genuine and open and it had to be _wrong_ somehow. It just couldn’t be that easy.

He’d remember later why it wasn’t that easy, he’s in charge of her now.

A beautiful woman with those _eyes_ trying to get him into bed with her on one of the most exhausting nights of his life. It’s not-that doesn’t happen.

When he walked in on her that first time, it doesn’t matter that he didn’t know she was a girl. _She_ was the one put in a vulnerable spot and _he_ was the one who put her there because he couldn’t bother to ask if it was ok to come in.

That’s on him.

After a year of prison, weeks of tracking Epsilon through a desert, and nearly dying on sidewinder, he’s accepted he’s unlucky.

Tucker’s not at fault here. Yes she tried to get out of training, but Tucker would take any excuse to get out of training. _He_ put up the sheets for her privacy, then _he_ lost his temper and tore the sheets away.

This is on him.

Now, Wash thinks hysterically, there’s _another_ incident. Tucker was curled in on herself in the sheets but she was faced away from him so he…did get a view.

Keep walking. Just keep walking and only think about what’s ahead.

 

* * *

 

  
“67…68…69…”

“Tucker. We talked about this.” Wash is trying to stay patient.

“No. This time my leg’s really cramped up…” Wash sighs and tosses her a water bottle,

“Take a quick break. Drink plenty of water.” Tucker takes off her helmet greedily sucking down as much water as she can. Eventually she comes up for air, when she catches her breathe, she gives him a sly look he doesn’t trust for a second.

“Y’know, maybe if you massaged-” He snatches the bottle back, she makes a desperate grab for it but she’s far too slow.

“Hey!”

“Break’s over. We’re doing pull ups. It’ll give your legs a chance to rest.”

“Fuck you man!” Wash screws the water bottle shut with a snap,

“Answer hasn’t changed.”

 

* * *

 

  
“I said _sprints_ private Tucker!”

“I’m going to _spit_ in your food!”

Okay, so at least now she’s got her mind off-

“Then I can spit in your face if that’s what you’re-”

God damnit.

“ _That’s gonna be another ten laps private!_ ”

“I’m _just_ gonna spit in your food!”

 

* * *

 

“Tucker, there’s a point in basic training where the drill sergeant attempts to _break_ his or her soldiers-”

“Hmmm-”

“No. Stop that. That’s not what we’re doing here.” Tucker grins girlishly,

“Ok, keep going.”

“…So that they may overcome their-”

“You wanna _break_ me?” Wash lets out a deep breathe and reminds himself who’s in charge here,

“Stop it. You wanted me as blue team leader, now you’ve got it. I’m not going to tolerate insubordination.”

“Ohh, I’m shaking in my armour…You like me shaking?”

“Tucker! Final warning!”

“Mhmm, well if you want me to _behave_ you could always bend me over your knee-”

Wash pulls his pistol out, “ _Sprints private Tucker!_ ”

“Fuck!”

 

* * *

  

When Tucker’s too exhausted to speak she crumbles to the ground panting. Wash hands her over the water bottle and as she starts drinking. When he’s sure she’s fine he begins the speech again.

“Tucker, there’s a point in basic training where-” Tucker comes up for air again,

“When they find their inner sadist and then refuse to use it in _bed_.” Wash’s done letting her get to him, he kneels down and leans right into her face,

“I, am going to _break_ you private Tucker.” Tucker smirks back at him, like she’s made some kind of progress,

“ _That’s_ more like it.”

“You’re running an obstacle course.” Wash deadpans standing up and getting his gun out, switching the rounds from metal to rubber.

“Wait-What?”

“Get up. You’re running it now.”

 

* * *

 

  
  
“I...I’m...” Tucker coughs, “What was…”

“Congratulations private, that was… an adequate time, for a beginner.”

“I…I don’t-”

“Just an adrenaline rush private, it’ll wear off.” He hears the smugness in his tone and doesn’t apologize for it. They’ve been at this all day, and this was the first time it felt like he’d gotten a win.

“I’m…I’m…”

“Shaking in your armour?” Wash asks, knowing damn well she is.

This. This felt good, this made the day’s work worth it. He can let her rest up now.

Tucker’s clearly spent, and the difficult truth of physical training is, the only way to build up your endurance is the _hard_ way. Working harder and longer than you think you can day after day.

It’s not something that can be earned in one day. if Wash were to try to push her any harder right now it’d probably end up having the opposite effect. He wouldn’t have pushed so hard if she had just _tried_ to focus in the first place.

“Oh boy! Oh Boy! Hello! Hello!” Caboose comes barreling in happier than Wash has seen him in a while.

“Caboose, glad to see your feeling better, I’ve got a little exercise for you-”

Caboose blows through his obstacle course with such total ease and speed he blows Wash’s own time out of the water. Wash slowly tries to process this and informs Tucker they’re done with training for today.

He needs to go work on the comm tower anyways.

 

* * *

 

 They spend the rest of the afternoon trying to get the tower to work, but he’s making up a lot of this as he goes. Still, if there’s even a chance he can get it working it could mean the difference between rescue and dying needlessly on a planet in the middle of nowhere.

Not that Tucker would notice.

“So, why won’t you fuck me?”

She’s looking for a distraction, he’s not going to give it to her. The only thing that matters right now is getting the tower working.

“Have you seen my soldering iron?”

“Uh, no. What, you’re ignoring me now?”

“No, just trying to stay focused.”

“C’mon man, this is getting ridiculous. You’ve been working non-stop and you haven’t made any progress in days. Just banging your head against it isn’t helping. Take a _break_ , kick your feet up, maybe fuck a pretty girl-”

“Now is not the time Tucker.”

“Oh c’mon! There’s never a _wrong_  time for getting laid.”

“We’re ship wrecked on what’s for all we know an uninhabited planet, with limited food, water, and make-shift shelter. Yes, there is a wrong time. The wrong time is now.”

“This place isn’t all that much different from blood gulch y’know? Plus, even if we were there instead of here we’d pretty much be doing the same things.”

“Except for fixing this radio.”

“You have no idea if you’re fixing this thing! Let’s face it, you could just be making it worse.”

“I’m not above making you run laps again.”

He can practically _hear_ Tucker pouting behind him, but she does stop complaining. Wash sighs, he can tell there’s a far too important looking rod bent out of place, he’d really need the soldering iron for that.

“Y’know, the reds never had to be asked twice. There was never a _right_ time back in the canyon exactly, just lulls in between the nonsense.”

“Well good for them Tucker-wait. What?”

“Red team. Simmons, Grif, Sarge, I fucked them. Church too.”

The wrench slips from his grip. Wash stares at the control panel blankly for a moment.

“You fucked Church-how would that...work?”

“You want details?”

“No. Never.” That is the last thing Wash ever wants,

“Sure thing man.” He just needs to focus on the radio tower, he decided a long time ago, whatever happened between the two of them has _nothing_ to do with him. Nothing.

“I just-Tucker he’s an AI.”

What the _hell_ is he asking?

“Yeah, and he cries during sex-”

“Ok! That’s already way more then I wanted to know.”

“ _You_ asked.”

“And I _never_ will again.” Wash grabs the crowbar and tries bending the rod back into place. At this point he’s just grasping at straws; he needs the god damned soldering iron.

“Even Sarge was better.”

“Tucker! What did I _just_ _say_?”

“I’m _just_ _saying_ , I’ve got references. By the way, I think we’ve both guessed Sarge has the welding thing you want. Still wanna go get it from him? He’d totally vouch for-”

Wash throws down the crowbar.

“Why are you so fixated on this?”

“Why do you think?! You’re so fucking _serious_ , all the goddam time. You need to lighten up.” Wash isn’t buying it,

“ _This_ is to get out of training.”

“ _Of_ _course_ it’s to fucking get out of training! But it’d be good for you too!”

“How, _how_ exactly do you think having-” He clings to any amount of dignity he still has not to stumble over the next word, “-having _sex_ would help me?”

“First, it might help you get that stick out of your ass…unless _that’s_ what you’re into.”

“Tucker!”

“Dude, some guys are into that, it doesn’t _necessarily_ mean you’re gay.”

“That, is _none_ of your business.”

“If you’d just fucking answer I’d stop asking!”

“What do you think I’ve been saying all this time!?”

“That. That right there! You _act_ like you’ve answered but you _haven’t_. I’ve _asked_ if you want to have sex, but you’ve never _actually_ said no. Just _not_ _now_.”

…what?

“I…Tucker, that can’t be right.”

“Look, if you just don’t want to, I’ll get over it. Seriously, it’s not a big deal, but you haven’t fucking said that yet.”

…Oh crap. No, he hasn’t.

“And so long as I don’t know, I’m going to at _least_ keep reminding you I’m into it. Then even if you do get around to turning me down, I can know I gave it my best shot.”

Wash feels an irrational pulse of indignation. Tucker’s been avoiding work every chance she’s had since the ship crashed. She half asses her training, doesn’t keep track of the tank when he tells her to, doesn’t even _try_ to help him with this tower. But this-

“ _This!?_  Getting in my pants you’re willing to work for but fixing the comm tower so we can get rescued we can just _get_ _back_   _to?_ ”

“Yes.”

Tucker’s stopped yelling, now she’s starring him down with unashamed intensity. The last time he saw her like this was when she was standing by the camp fire talking about her son. Now her eyes are filled with that same cool-handed ferocity.

Tucker deserves a clear answer.  

So just…say no.

“…Tucker I…”

Wash stops, expecting Tucker to interrupt. She doesn’t, she’s still waiting on him for an answer,

Just say no.

“Tucker… it’s just…”  
  
_Just_. _Say_. _No_.

“…”

Or say _yes_ and be done with it…or…

What’s he supposed to say here?

Tucker watches him a little longer, the fierce look on her face slowly shifts to…something he doesn’t know. If it’s disappointment he’ll never forgive himself.

She takes a step into his personal space and Wash only stays still through sheer force of will. When she gets close enough, she pulls Wash’s helmet off and looks him dead in the eyes. He can hear it tumble away.

Those _eyes_.

Tucker leans right up into his ear and he can _feel_ her breathe on his neck as she whispers,

“Ok.”

 Wash blinks, then Tucker draws back out of his personal space.

“Wait? What?” Tucker shrugs,

“You’re not sure you want sex. That’s an answer.”

…Wash isn’t totally sure what just happened.

“What?” Tucker steps back, leaning against the railing and rolls her eyes,

“I just wanted an answer man. This wasn’t a pass fail thing. _I_ _don’t_ _know,_ is fine.”

Oh god there’s blood _rushing_ to his head.

“So…that’s it?”

“Yeah man. Either way it’s cool. I wasn’t trying to like… pressure you or something. _If_  you decide for sure one way or the other that you wanna...just let me know.”

Wash is trying desperately to grasp what’s happening. Tucker gives him a last looking up and down and then nods,

“Ok, so I’m not gonna help you with this. Just because I have no fucking idea how to. _So_ , I’m going back to my blanket fort to masturbate. Unless you decide you wanna join me, give me a half hour alright?”

Tucker walks off humming and Wash is left there numbly remembering that he _still_ has to go get that soldering iron from Sarge.

Between watching Tucker walk away from him and the roaring in his ears, he’s momentarily distracted from the constant nagging instincts that keep insisting  _they’re being watched._

 So he completely misses the threat from the cliffs.

 

* * *

 

 

In the distance, a form in unfamiliar orange watches them carefully. When they separate, the intruder shifts his attention to the soldier in blue green armour, focusing his rifle’s scope to the sways of her hips.

  
“ _Hmmm_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if I missed anything in my editing. And if you enjoyed please leave a comment or click on the kudos.
> 
> And again sorry for being late.
> 
> Next Friday!


	9. When Warthogs fly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter a week isn’t working. I’m sorry, I had a much less quality chapter ready for Friday, but I couldn’t do it.
> 
> This version’s way more fun.
> 
> I will try to keep updating every 1-2 weeks. But from now on, no more making promises. I think it was actually slowing me down somehow

So she didn’t officially get a no, but that’s not the same as getting a yes. Wash doesn’t want sex, it’s a bummer but she’s not gonna push him. Tucker’s been pushed before, nothing’s less attractive.

But yeah, still a bummer.

Church’s still gone, her son is still expecting a call she can’t make, she really could’ve used a distraction. Chasing Wash’s tail was fun for a while, but now she’s really got nothing left to do but train, do inventory and not have sex with Wash.

It’s fucking miserable.

If Tucker was at Blood Gulch she knows exactly what she’d be doing, she’d go bother Church. He never needed pushing to find something to do, and it was never training.

A lot of the time he’d drag her into freelancer drama, once or twice it was sex, but there were lots of long days with nothing to do where they’d basically just do whatever, talk sometimes. Church would pretty much take any excuse to simultaneously bitch about and gush over Tex.

It’s weird to think about, but she’s back on blue team and Church isn’t.

And she _still_ misses her kid.

She’s just really fucking ready for Wash to get the radio working, the best way she can help is by not being there to get in the way.

 

* * *

 

  
So, Wash _actually_ gets the radio tower working. Weird. She’ll be honest she didn’t think that was gonna work, if he was into it, she absolutely would’ve kissed him.

Even weirder the person who picks up is _Donut_.

The second Wash finishes telling Donut their last known coordinates she snatches the transmitter out of Wash’s hands. She holds up her index finger to his face to get him to wait,

“Donut? Can you get a message to Junior for me?”

“Tucker? Sweetie is that-”

The signal cuts out on her, so she has no idea whether or not he’s gonna talk to Junior. Honestly she’s not even sure how he’d do that. The red team goes absolutely nuts celebrating. Tucker wants to join in but she keeps imagining Junior’s face when he sees Donut again.

She’s kind of hoping that he’s isn’t old enough yet to stop finding Donut funny, cause she really doesn’t want to miss that.

Tucker wasn’t listening, but Wash is yelling something about how he’s a huge wet blanket, and they all shouldn’t have their hopes up. She’s not sure if it’s because she’s gotten used to defying people, but It has the exact opposite affect on her.

Even if Donut can’t get to Junior the point is, rescue’s coming. She can go see him herself soon. Tucker elbows him in the ribs lightly and he nearly jumps out of his armour, she smiles at him, really trying to let him know she’s just being friendly, “Dude, lighten up.”

Wash has been a little extra aware of her since he turned her down. He’s still a tyrant about training but that’s pretty much the only time he still knows what to do with himself around her. Wash nods a little too quickly,

“Yeah. Sure, of course.” Tucker raises an eyebrow smirking at him playfully. They’re moving into more familiar territory. She’s pretty sure Wash feels it too and she watches him unclench for the first time since the crash,

“Well… this is the first good news we’ve had in a while.” She smiles at him, and for a really brief moment he actually seems like he’s smiling back at her.

Then Caboose ruins it by introducing them to Freckles.

 

* * *

 

  
She fucks up.

It’s really Wash’s fault though. Caboose is right in the middle of showing her a trick Freckles can do and Wash storms over accusing her of skipping training.

Which, obviously yes she _was_ , but he didn’t have proof…except yeah he’s right that she always complains about her nipples after having to run those damned sprints. Wash doesn’t have to run with B cups all squashed into armour that just assumes she’s a guy, she tells him that too.

“I thought you said you were done doing that!” Tucker raises an eyebrow,

“Doing what?”

“That! Flirting!” Caboose tilts his head curiously watching them, she doesn’t care right now, she knows Wash will after but whatever, she didn’t start this.

“Dude. Talking to you about my breasts is not flirting. If you’re turned on by something I say, it doesn’t necessarily mean I’m hitting on you.”

_“I. Am. Not-”_

“In fact, I’m feeling a little harassed. I come to you with a legitimate work complaint and you treat it as a come on. The _nerve_.”

Wash looks like he’s about to _flip_. He stomps right into her personal space-then stops dead in his tracks, breathes in through his nose, planting his hands on his hips and dropping his head,

“Why can’t you take this seriously?” Now he just seems exhausted,

Tucker scowls, she’s noticed how he always asks her that whenever she actually comes on to him.

“Why can’t you just let us do our thing! We were fine just hanging out!”  
  
“I’m trying to make you the best!”

“Dude! We’re in a canyon! There’s no one here to be better than here!”

Wash crosses his arms stubbornly, “And what if there is?” She looks at him like he’s the dumbest man she’s ever met. She’s heard this already,

“Who? Who do you think is here?” Wash pauses,

“I don’t know. It’s just a feeling, I can’t explain it.”

“Oh, I think I can.” Tucker tells him exactly what his problem is, the paranoia, the betrayal issues, the friends who betrayed him-

Oh wow, she’s pretty sure she took that too far.

“Well I guess I’m not surprised _Laverna_ -“

Goddam, that’s the first time he used _Laverna_ on her. Fuck she doesn’t know what’s about to happen,

“You’ve always got the next smart ass thing to say! Miss quick witted! Always has the next _move_ , the next _conquest_! If you ran laps as well as you run your mouth you could probably outrun Freckles!”

Caboose chirps in merrily,

“Freckles can out run anyone! He takes very big steps!”

“ _Caboose!”_

Simmons picks that exact moment to bust in, he kind of moved in for some reason and keeps insisting to Wash that he’ll love the chore wheel,

“What the-Why is he here?!”

Tucker rolls her eyes, “He’s got some real fucked up daddy issues, I think you’re his new “father figure” to dump them all on.”

Simmons balks,

“Shut up Tucker! I do not! You’re making me look bad in front of Da-Wash! I meant Wash! Sir! Can I call you sir?”

“Leave.”

“Ha! Ha! Good one sir!” Wash stares at Simmons then turns all his attention back to her like Simmons doesn’t exist.  
  
“Look, so long as I’m blue team leader I will do everything in my power to protect you whether you like it or not.”

Tucker throws her arms up, “There’s nothing to protect me from!”

She hears a warthog revving up and Wash’s face gets a shade paler.

_“TUCKER!”_

She turns to the sound instead of Wash and she sees the warthog, but then it all goes black and there’s an impact to her side. Tucker’s first thought is _Oh shit I got hit_.

She tumbles with something that wraps around her tight throwing her to the ground. Then she feels the warthog soar over her. She hears tires screeching and then…polka music?  
  
Fucking Reds.

“Holy shit! Are you guys ok?”

“Grif! Do not sympathize with the enemy! That’s treason!”  
  
“You tried to hit us with a car!?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time Freelancer.”

“I didn’t! I don’t know what happened! It’s like the second it saw you it started revving up full speed!”

“Grif! What did I just say!? No consorting with the enemy!”

_Enemy detected_

“Uh…good Freckles... no murdering anyone...”

“Everyone shut up! Tucker are you ok?” Tucker groans and the world blinks back into place, her ears are roaring and there’s a blue-yellow thing above her that morphs into Wash, she sits up slowly, her teeth are rattling and back hurts.

Wash could’ve made a pretty solid line backer.

“Fuck… Wash?” He must’ve knocked her down to the ground when he saw the warthog and she thinks that’s his knee between her legs but she’s not entirely sure. Wash takes off her helmet and tilts her chin up, then moves it side to side examining her.

“Uhh… are we interrupting something?” Wash’s head whips to Grif menacingly. Grif drops behind the wheel with a whimper, Sarge’s never looked more disgusted. Tucker rolls her eyes and decides to lighten the mood,

“I should be so lucky”

Wash’s head swivels back to her and despite his helmet she’s absolutely sure he’s scowling at her. Wash slowly and far far too carefully helps her back on her feet.

Then Sarge starts yelling about blue team’s “Betrayal” something about kidnapping Simmons and how Freckles is a weapon of war that justifies a preemptive strike.

She honestly really doesn’t care. Red team’s always swooping in and ruining stuff. She tells them that, and then Wash is yelling at _her_ for some reason so she starts the fight back up, and it could be the head injury but she’s _furious._

“You are the worst blue team leader ever! Even Caboose could do better!”

“Well let’s just put Caboose in charge and see how you like it!”

“Well I happily accept!”

Those were the words that damned them.    

Caboose becomes blue team leader. Sarge decides that Simmons was officially kidnapped, Sarge takes on Freckles, gets blasted out of the warthog and _just_ as they’re all gonna die-

Donut shows up.

Everyone _cheers_.

Then Donut tells them he told the ship to leave.

Then they all form an angry mob and beat Donut black and blue.

 

* * *

 

  
Caboose ordered her to fix the radio tower. Tucker can’t blow him off because Freckles would shoot her. Since she has no fucking idea how to do this, she hits the radio with the butt of her rifle.

Over and over.

To the point where she’s sure it isn’t helping but she keeps going anyways because she can’t think of anything else to do.

Freckles made Caboose the new blue team leader, Donut _didn’t_ call her kid, he _didn’t_ bring a rescue, they’re _still_ _shipwrecked_ , she still has no _fucking idea_ where church is, and Junior _still_ has no idea where she is.

Wash got stuck with looking for ‘bad guys’, but he must be done because he comes up behind her. Wash doesn’t make as much noise as Caboose but the armour he wears is heavy against the metal platform so it makes enough noise that she can’t miss it.

“We should talk.” Tucker doesn’t turn around and doesn’t stop what she’s doing,

“Can’t break up with me if we aren’t dating.”

“Tucker, what are you doing?”

“Fixing the fucking radio! What does it look like?”

“It looks like you’re breaking it.” Tucker is really not in the mood,

“Fuck you.” She grumbles, it’s not really his fault, but she’s mad and she could care less if she’s nice.

The only sound is her rifle banging against the radio for a while.

“Try connecting the antenna port to the amp.” She stops,

“What?”

“If you increase the input voltage that will just fry the radio, but if you transmit through an amp-”

“Wash, I don’t know how to fix the radio. I don’t know why everyone keeps acting like I can fix the radio. But I don’t. Know. How.” She lowers the gun, it’s getting exhausting and her arms are tired.

“If you just listen to me you could do this!”

“I don’t want to do this! Did you ever think of that!? All I want to do is talk to my friend but he’s gone now and all I’ve got is you!”

“…”

“What?”

It’s bullshit, she knows it is but Church should _be here_. Things are falling apart and she made him her kid’s fucking Godfather. He should be here to just…be her friend and bitch about Wash with her. He _owes_ her.

Wash just…isn’t Church, they’re two totally separate categories of people in her life, and she really fucking needs her friend right now. Nobody does anything for a while, she becomes more aware of her hands then she’d like to be. After a while, Wash sighs and takes off his helmet dropping it on the floor.

She expects some sort…leader speech? Like a rally the troops sort of thing, instead she gets to hear about his old team…and how apparently _he_ was the fuck up back then.

“I’m new to all of this. You and Church? You knew each other inside and out-Tucker don’t you dare!”

She closes her mouth, that’s fair, he caught her, point Wash.

“…But I’ve never really had to lead anyone before.”

Tucker lets that sit with her for a bit.

“…and _you’ve_ never needed a radio tower before.”

Tucker does her damndest not to think too hard about that.

“And as for…” Wash starts awkwardly shifting a little uncomfortably, “Look, I should’ve said this before. You deserve a straight answer and I didn’t give that to you.” Wash rubs the back of his neck looking away, “This’s just a bit hard for me-“

There’s a pause where Wash is eying her expecting something, “You’re not gonna-“

“I wanna see where you’re going with this.”

Wash runs a hand down his face, “Great. Ok, look, I’m your CO. I’m In _charge_ of you, I’m _accountable_ for you, It’d be irresponsible to put… sex on top of all that.”

Accountable?

Something very obvious slowly dawns on Tucker,

“Did…Dare ask you to protect me while I’m away?”

“No.” Too quick Wash.

“Is that why you’ve been such a freak about protecting me!?”

“No!”

“That _fuck_!”

“He didn’t! Really!”

“What’s my blood type?”

“Type AB-Wait no-I have no idea-“

“That FUCK!”

The second he found out humans had non compatible blood types he insisted they find out what Tucker’s was. She barely remembered but Dare basically had the doctor explain all of human anatomy in one sitting.

Oh God this makes so much sense.

“This is why you’ve been so crazy isn’t it!? You’re scared Dare’ll kick your ass if I don’t get home safe!”

“I am not afraid of Dare ‘Saham!” She’s normally pretty good about telling when he’s lying, mostly because he sucks at it, Wash is indignant about it but…he doesn’t seem all that scared.

“Ok, then what!?”

“Tucker I-he was just worried. Junior was-”

“Junior?”

Wash stops talking so fast she hears his jaw click. Wash isn’t saying anything so she repeats herself getting agitated, “What about Junior?”

“Nothing.”

Tucker feels her body get ready for a fight, she raises the butt of her gun threateningly too stupidly angry to think she could just point it at him.

“ _Wash_. What. About. Junior?”

Wash takes a step back but It only encourages her to move in,

“I-It’s just-Can you put the gun down?”

“ _What about my son Wash?”_

“Junior asked me to…take care of you while he’s at school.”

Tucker feels any of the strength still in her arms drop to the floor, she lowers the gun, it was too damned heavy anyways. She feels like she just got sucker punched, Tucker takes off her helmet and looks at him as a completely unfamiliar neediness wells up,

“What?”

Wash fidgets, like he’s looking for something but there’s nothing there. Wash either finds it or decides he’s not going to and takes a hesitant step forward,

“He worries about you. I mean I didn’t get an exact translation…until yes Dare showed up-Tucker he knows you get pulled into dangerous situations… he asked me to… take care of you until school gets out and he can take over.”

“…”

“Tucker?”

_Oh baby._

Tucker feels an enormous wave of pride for son, and love, and deep endless gratitude-

and utter _black hearted_ self loathing for not damning the UNSC and just going with her baby in the first place.

She _knew_ she _knew_ she _knew_ she should’ve gone with him! Now it’s too late to turn back, it’s _too_   _late_. _Fucking_ _Donut_ fucked up the rescue mission and Junior probably thinks she’s _dead_ and there’s no amount of therapy in the world that’s going to make that _okay_.

She wants to just…smother him, and hold him, and kiss him and insist he’s still too little to be worried like that. But she still can’t do any of that because they’re a fucking billion miles apart. She’s missing all his basket ball games, and _pictures_ and if that _fucking punk_ in his class is still bothering him she’s gonna rip his tiny head off-

“Are you crying?”

She shakes her head hard and crosses her arms tightly against herself, the tears are absolutely welling up, it’s all she can do to hold them back. _Fuck._  She should be wearing her helmet right now.

“Oh God- _Tucker_ I’m sure he’s alright please don’t-“

“I’m not crying!” She didn’t mean for it to come out so shrieky but it did.

“…Ok.”

Wash looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, and Tucker can start to feel herself trembling. She’s trying not to look at him but now he won’t look away.

After a few uncomfortable seconds of her not crying in front of him, he quietly closes the gap between them and wraps his arms around her. Tucker tries to push away but Wash has a gentle, unmovable grip on her. Tucker  _knows_ what he’s doing now.

“ _Stop taking care of me!”_

Tucker squirms unhappily thudding her fist against his shoulder. Wash only tightens the hug putting a hand on the base of her neck. The tops of his fingers just reaching the beginning of her hair, she can hear him murmur sadly in her ear,

“He made me promise Tucker.”

Fuck. She’s actually crying now, there’s no way he can’t tell. Actual wet sobs right into his shoulder.

“Tucker, _please_ don’t cry.” Tucker buries her face in the hollow of his neck, he can’t see her face so that’s at least a small point for her dignity. Fuck she’s _weeping_ right in front of him what is wrong with her?

“Tucker, _please_ I didn’t mean to…”

She _never_ cries in front of people, the last time was when she was pregnant and Church told her she was getting fat. Fucker had no idea what to do, he was too afraid to talk to her for the rest of the day.

“Tucker…I-what can I do? _Please stop.”_ He presses his nose against her temple and squeezes tighter. It’s all she can do to just shake her head, she tries to stop it but every time she holds it back a second it just makes her cry harder.

“Tucker, Tucker _please_ …I-we could have sex?”

The tears stop immediately and Tucker peaks up at him curiously, Wash turns a whole new shade of red and immediately back-peddles,

“I didn’t mean it-I’m sorry- that was unprofessional. I just thought-I wasn’t trying to take advantage of you I just-” Tucker listens to him explain _again_ how sex would be a bad idea and how _of course_ she is very attractive but she’s in a very _vulnerable_ place right now-

She laughs at him.

At first they sound a little like sobs but she can feel herself smile again. Wash lets out this _whoosh_ of relief and his head drops.

“Did you seriously just pimp yourself out because you didn’t want to see me cry?”

Tucker’s still a little choked up, but it’s _only_ because of her Junior meltdown. Wash lets out a small embarrassed laugh, refusing to look her in the eyes,

“No… just got a little desperate.” Tucker’s voice is a little less steady than she wants it to be but it’s stronger now,

“Oh so you’re just a tease. Figures.”

“ _Tucker.”_ He sounds upset, and a little humiliated but immeasurably grateful she’s done crying. Tucker can feel his arms relax around her,

“I didn’t know what to do…I just…I had to _try.”_ Tucker smiles gratefully and presses into the hug snugly before he can complain,

“Well, that’s your problem. You try too hard.”

Wash gives her a funny look and she explains with a shrug, “Church never really had us train, or tried to make us the best, he just took the blame when things went wrong.”

If Tucker’s being honest? He never even really took the blame that often. She’s mostly saying it because she’d rather not get stuck with it herself. Plus, this way he gets to do something the team actually wants.

Wash gets totally suckered, he lists off all the ways things have gone wrong and he really acts like it’s his fault somehow.

“Guess I really fucked up.”  
  
Tucker watches him hang his head, and tries not to feel like a dick. Yeah she could’ve made any of this easier on him-and he saved her life from that damned warthog…crap she’s been a dick.

“Well I mean, if you wanted… you could always fuck _me_ up a little? Make yourself feel better-” Suddenly his grip on her tightens back up and Wash’s voice gets stubborn,

“I’m not going to sleep with you to make myself _feel better.”_

She’s…never quite gotten _that_ reaction before. She feels herself pout, “Sex isn’t a one sided thing man. I could make _me_ feel better too.” Wash looks at her bizarrely,

“Why is it anytime you want to make something ‘better’ you start with sex?” Tucker shrugs, why does he have to ask?

“C’mon man, sex makes everything better. Or y’know at the very least helps make it suck less.” Wash gives her a disappointed dad look,

“You know you could’ve just fixed the tower by now right?” Tucker looks away rolling her eyes, it’s not like she knows anything about this stuff. What’s she supposed to do about this? Wash keeps insisting though, “I’m _seri-I know you can._ You’re a capable soldier Tucker. You just…you need to _try.”_

…Tucker’s a little more affected by that then she wants to admit.

When she thinks back, during basic training, the first time she used sex to skip out on work? They’d started doing these _endurance_ drills, they’d have to run them until her feet would fucking bleed. They were exhausting, she was miserable and the guys in her unit were running them so much _easier_. She hated feeling like she was letting her gender down or some bull.

The drill sergeant was kind of cute, bit of an ego on him but that made it easier to get into his pants. No one she puts the moves on ever… really acted like she could do more than just _be in their bed._

Except Wash.

Tucker back tracks to all the times she dodged work, and all the times she was _pissed off_ at Wash for pushing her to do better. For the first time, she asks herself if the reason she never did this kind of stuff was just because…because she assumed she’d be bad at it.

Oh.

Tucker pulls away from Wash casually and pulls up a cord from behind the radio,

“It’s just unplugged.”

She doesn’t even know why she looked there, or why she didn’t look there before but she…did it? Sort of? Tucker plugs it back in and watches the radio light up. Tucker turns to Wash and he’s just-

He’s all lit up too.

Then they hear something important sounding get blown up and they get started on a plan to deal with Freckles.

 

* * *

 

  
  
So, she fucked up, but Wash kind of ended up saving the day. Apparently when the ship crashed and Caboose’s helmet cracked apart, Wash spent all this _time_ secretly making him a new one.

He gives Caboose this big sappy speech about friendship. If it was anyone else she’d be sure Caboose was getting conned, but he’s Wash, he sucks at lying and, _yeah_ he is that sappy.

It was kind of touch and go for a minute. Freckles was seriously gonna murder Wash if Caboose wasn’t within earshot.

She’s sort of surprised by how scary that felt.

 

* * *

 

“Well, that didn’t work.”

_“Agent Washing was a part of the freelancer program. Based on intel provided there was a minimal likelihood of success.”_

“Yeah, yeah, don’t rub my nose in it. Alright, phase one was a bust, so I guess we move on to the original plan, _make nice.”_

_“Affirmative.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will try to update by next Tuesday. No more promises though.


	10. Wash makes and misplaces friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m late.
> 
> I broke two keyboards in the process of making this chapter.
> 
> It wasn’t because I raged out during a game or something, I just spilled soda on the both of them. I have a new drink policy for when I’m on the computer.
> 
> By the time I’d gotten a replacement my mojo’d fizzled.
> 
> But I swear to all my readers like I swore to ShiraneAtsune I wrote every day.
> 
> I have a pocket folder stuffed with handwritten segments of this chapter. Because somehow using a pen helped.
> 
> Especially before I’d replaced my keyboard.
> 
> I will NEVER abandon this fan fiction. You have my word.
> 
> ShiraneAtsune, I want to properly apologize, I promised you I’d update a lot sooner than I actually did. 
> 
> I sat down and it was a lot longer than I was expecting.
> 
> Thank you, all of my readers for being patient, and for taking the time.

Wash had this cat as a kid.

He was always getting into trouble, but still he was basically indestructible. His Dad hated it, ever since he was a kitten Loki had this nasty habit of jumping up on people from behind.

As a kid Wash would think it was funny y’know? Dad would jump and scream like a little kid and when he realized it was just the cat he’d get so _red_. But Wash was still just a kid back then, so he laughed about it, and didn’t realize how bad it was until it was too late. 

Dad was never great at laughing off a joke. One day Loki’d jumped on him too many times that week and Dad decided they were throwing him out.

His Dad roughly grabbed Loki by the scruff of his fur, Loki let out these tiny little _mews_ of protest. Wash only just barely beat him to the door. His Dad was angrier then he’d ever seen him, and _insisted_ Wash move out of the way.

It was the first time Wash’d ever disobeyed his Dad. Wash remembers Loki suddenly turning _furious_ when his Dad tried to push past Wash. Loki scratched and snarled for in his arms for dear life, his Dad swore like a sailor and dropped him.

Loki dropped to the floor gracefully and ran to Wash’s room with Wash right behind him. The second Wash was in his room he slammed the door shut and locked it. His Dad kept banging on his door to hand the _damned cat over._

If his Mom hadn’t come home early that day he’s not sure what would’ve happened. When Mom got caught up to speed, she talked his Dad down, and took Wash down to the pet store and got Loki a bell to go on his collar.

By the time they got home Dad had cooled down, he even apologized. Wash was just happy he could keep Loki so he accepted. Wash proudly showed off how loud the belle was by having Loki chase after a laser pointer.

Dad never really got friendly with Loki but aside from a few… _incidents_ -that time with the tree, that time Loki _somehow_ found his way into the dryer- Dad eventually got used to him.

_“Agent Washington.”_

Wash tries not to flinch and turns around slowly, pushing back the mental image of getting Freckles’ a bell to go with his little hat.

_“You have failed in your duties to Captain Caboose.”_

The Mantis is easily something out of his nightmares, and the only protection he has is a helmet he’s not even wearing.

“Caboose! Can you come out here please!?”

Caboose pops into view from thin air.

“Hello!”

Wash tosses out the mental image of putting a belle on Caboose as soon as it forms in his mind’s eye.

He really needs to throw out his imagination.

“Caboose! Your pet is trying to kill me!”

Caboose at least has the presence of mind to question Freckles about it.

“What? Oh what? Freckles? Freckles Is that true?”

_“Agent Washington has failed in his duties to you.”_

“Oh, see!” Caboose says with the kind of relief you can only have when there isn’t a giant turret pointed at you, “He’s just doing what he just said he was doing!”

This is how he dies. Wash lets out a frustrated sigh and tries again.

“Caboose!”

“Yes. Hello.”

Wash hears the whirring of Freckles’ cannons. One of his very last but still slightly fried nerve tells him to _run_. Run serpentine and get to cover. Give himself a chance if it comes to it. Then he footsteps from the upper floor. Wash looks up and sees Tucker, she’s watching them.

So Wash forces himself to take a breathe, 

and the frayed nerve smooths itself back down.

Wash looks back to Caboose and remembers just how tightly he tried to cling to Loki.

…

“I’m sorry Caboose.”

Caboose tilts his head curiously but his confusion is clear, Freckles is locked onto him -and that’s still a real life or death concern- but right now Caboose needs his full attention.

“I’m sorry your best friend left you without saying goodbye. Maybe it was because he thought it would be easier, or maybe he just didn’t know how to. But he left you.”

He looks up to Tucker, Simmons is next to her now, probably drawn over by all the noise.

“He left _both_ of you.”

Wash feels his heart sink at the way Tucker’s chin lowers then looks back to Caboose powering through.

“And instead of being there for you… I put distance between us. And you replaced him with the first machine you could find.”

It’s been a while since he was taught the chain of command. It’s something that’s been a constant for him his entire adult life. Mostly because he believed it was what would keep him alive.

“I don’t usually do…emotional things.”

But it didn’t end that way for his military career. If he hadn’t broken rank he and his men would be dead. Didn’t work that way during Project Freelancer either. The chain of command was never built for a single soldier, or even his squad, It’s designed to win wars.

But they’re not at war today, and so Wash shows Caboose the new helmet he made.

“OH MY GOSH! MY HELMET!”

Wash sets the helmet on the ground carefully and backs away slowly. Freckles is still suspicious; Wash won’t give him the excuse. Caboose barrels over like a kid at Christmas.

He’d never used mark 5 armour himself but the design was far simpler than the more advanced models. Still it’s supposed to keep _Caboose’s_ head from getting damaged, and since it’s Caboose he’ll probably be wearing it a long time, so Wash took his time.

Caboose picks it up delicately and looks at it like it’s made of solid gold.

Without another thought Caboose takes off the helmet he’s wearing, and tosses it aside like it’s garbage.

Caboose looks the happier than Wash’s ever seen him.

There’s a quick but disturbing flash of Junior looking at a fresh plate of waffles that Wash immediately buries in a corner of his mind he’ll eventually forget about.

Therapy’s overrated anyways.

Caboose happily shoves his new helmet in place. The lights in his visor perk up and Caboose tilts his chin up with pride.  
Wash takes off his own helmet and smiles at him, with a cautious look at Freckles Wash decides to take a risk and walks over to Caboose.

Oddly enough, Freckles lets him.

Caboose’s waving his arms at Freckles yelling at him to _look at him!_ Look at his _awesome_ new helmet, so he could just be distracted.

Wash puts a hand on his shoulder from behind, Caboose immediately turns with a curious tilt of his helmet.

“And as your friend, I have to tell you, I know you like Freckles, but the truth is, he’s very dangerous. He’s not a puppy anymore…kitten...he blew up a _tank_ Caboose.”

_“Captain Caboose is not your friend.”_

Caboose looks up at Freckles for a moment.

“Nah…nah.We’re all friends here Freckles.” Caboose bittersweetly drags up every drop of maturity he has and tells Freckles from now on he should listen to Wash.

So there’s only one thing left for Wash to say.

“Thank you Caboose.”

 

 

* * *

 

_48 hours Later_

 

 

It’s Project Freelancer.

It has to be.

There are fabric cuffs around his wrists, bright unholy lights burning straight into his retinas. The Director’s coming in any minute, or the counsellor-

“Good morning Agent Washington! How’s that noggin of yours today?”

…what?

…ok, it’s not Freelancer. That’s clearly a woman’s voice, no woman he’d met from Freelancer was ever that nice to him. It’s time to figure out what the hell’s going on.

Wash sits up-

And immediately drops back down the nausea hits his head and his aching ribs but like never before. Wash’s head is pounding with what has to be the karmic fall back of everything he’s ever done wrong.

“Now now silly! None of that please, otherwise you’re likely to undo all that hard work I just did.”

….He’s heard this voice before.

“Don’t you worry soldier! You’ll be back on your feet in no time!”

Wash feels his grip on the room slip out from under him, and it all goes black.

 

* * *

 

_Literally 5 minutes after Wash has his talk with Caboose_

 

 

Tucker’s nearly shot.

He was distracted, wasn’t watching their six. The first bullet _blurs_ just between them _far_ too close for comfort. In the same second he’s shoving her behind cover and shoves her helmet back on.

“What the fuck!?” Tucker either hasn’t seen the enemy yet, or wants to double check she was nearly shot, so she keeps trying to poke her head out of cover. Wash gets a firm grip on her and wraps her tight into his chest.

“Wash!? What the fuck are you-”

“Stay in cover!” Wash takes off his helmet and angles the visor carefully.

“I can’t sneak a peak but you can take off your helmet!?”

Wash shoots her a dirty look then catches them in the reflection from his visor. Four that he can see. They’re wearing armour that looks brand new and are all lined up like chess pieces.

Simmons’ is shrieking from behind cover in the building, begging and pleading for them to _stop shooting_. Wash’s pretty sure he’s going to start crying again.

And Caboose’s new helmet’s already failed.

“Where did everyone go!?!”

Wash immediately yells to Freckles to step in front of Caboose. The bullets _ping_ against Freckles’ armour like rain.  
Tucker hits her limit before he does.

“Fuck this.”

She manages to elbow her way on top of him and with her first shot she takes one out. Under different circumstances he might be proud.

Wash hauls her back into cover before a stray bullet blows her head off.

“Stop! Stop! We don’t know who they are!” Wash has already made those mistakes, he doesn’t want to relive them.  
“They’re the guys that are shooting at us!”

“We can’t-”

“Caboose is still blind! He’s gonna wander out into open fire any second! You wanna go grab him!?”

“How do they know where we are!?”

…God he hates it when she’s right.

If they’re doing this, they’re not taking half measures.

“Freckles!”

One word and it’s practically over before it begins. Freckles launches a barrage of shots that blow the enemy away.

After the smoke clears Wash keeps a hold on her for a few more seconds just to be sure, but Tucker shoves her way out of his arms and pulls herself into a stand. Looking in all directions for enemies that will shoot her at the first chance.

Wash follows her up, this way if there are more of them, at least he can grab her easier from on his feet.

Still, that _feeling_ it’s still buzzing in the back of his brain like-

“Look out!”

A gunshot. This blur of _grey-orange armour-_

“Wash!”

_Tucker_

She’s not behind cover _goddamit_.

“Very impressive Agent Washington. Your reaction time and quick action are just as I expected them to be.”

“Piss off!”

The intruder fixates on the soldier with the shield with cold, measured observation, “Just consider yourself lucky that I didn’t blow off your head.”

“Oh you are such a douche!” It’s such a _Tucker_ thing to say he knows she has to speak up,

“What he said!”

There’s someone else, a mercenary in grey-green armour, he’s tall, his voice is deep an everything about his screams of failed therapy.

Wash decides to answer accordingly, no half measures,

“Freckles!”

He must have some impressive tech on him because he disappears before the bullets get anywhere near him. Wash doesn’t believe that’s the last of him for a second.

 

* * *

 

_60 Hours later_

 

 

Wash wakes to that _voice_

“Report.”

Locus

“Well! _Someone_ finally dusted off their orientation map of our base!”

That’s the woman from before.

“You were told to report in with his status Doctor.”

“As _you_ were told to stop bothering my patients as they rest! We don’t _follow_ orders Locus. We give them!”

Wash can’t see a goddam thing, he can’t even open his eyes because of the _light_ -

“Well, you found us! Unfortunately doctor-patient confidentiality-“

“Doesn’t apply in wartime doctor, not when you’re given a direct order from a superior.”

“Absolutely right!” The woma-the Doctor’s chipper voice replies, “When _Doyle_ finally returns to base he’ll get a full debriefing on your latest victims! As well as the names of all the lives you squandered on that pointless attack you ordered!”

Wash tries to turn away from the light, they seem to distracted to know he’s moving yet.

“Stay in your lane Doctor. You are no where _near_ qualified to judge the success of a military operation. Now move out of my-”

There’s a hissing noise, and a cry of outrage from Locus.

 _“What_ did you just inject me with?!”

“Oh, _nothing_ … nothing that won’t work it’s way out of your system. In about 48 hours that is! Hopefully that will give you something to focus on other than bothering me.”

There’s a loud slam, Wash tries to get free with every loud noise to cover the racket he’s making but so far there’s been no give. The restraints don’t give him any leverage.

“Doctor, you seem to have highly overestimated…”

Locus’ voice trails off, and Wash hears…retching.

“Oh Dear! It seems I did! I assumed it would take affect right away, must’ve under dosed you! I assumed you were a little lighter than you actually are. Ah! Well, the guess your weight game at the carnival was never really my thing.”

Wash hears horrible noises start to come from Locus and tries to hide the chill that runs down his spine.

“Don’t worry dear! This won’t kill you! Doyle still needs you to help finish up this war! This is just a little something I toyed around with as an ambitious undergrad bent on world domination!”

... _Was_ she a part of Freelancer?

The Doctor tuts at him disappointedly, Wash hears Locus drag himself away from her, but not without a last growl,  
“This was a mistake Doctor.”

“No Dear, a _mistake_ was believing in a silly little intern wouldn’t get caught sneaking off with samples of _the flood_ out of a classified laboratory! _That_ was certainly a career ender! Why do you _think_ I live as far away from UNSC authorities as I can?”  
The doctor’s steps are the antithesis of Locus’. Sharp, measured contrast to Locus’ graceless loud bumbling.

Wash finally cranes his neck far enough to see what’s happening. The doctor has to be in the white armour with those purple streaks and Locus is just barely getting up onto his knees with his hand on the wall.

“Managing _you-_ ” She says as she   _boops_ him on the nose, “Is a job requirement! Not one I look forward to, but a requirement none the less. I don’t dwell on it though! In my line of work, I’ve come accustomed to dealing with _all sorts of things!_ Things no one else has the stomach for!”

…She could’ve been a part of Project Freelancer.

 

* * *

 

_Literally One minute after Locus Disappears_

 

  
“Alright! Drink up! You’ll be good as new in no time!”

Felix eyes Doc cautiously, “Look…Doc? Not to tell you how to do your job, but what’s the point of raising my blood sugar without stitching up my wound first?”

Doc scratches his head, “Orange juice does that?”

Felix gives Doc a last look as though he’s erasing him from existence. Then immediately turns his attention to Wash.

“Can I get someone better than him?” Wash takes the opportunity to raise a gun to Felix’s head,

“How ‘bout a bullet through the brain?” Wash’s threat rolls off of Felix’s back without an issue, Doc is the only one that seems offended,

_“Hey!”_

“I could’ve gotten that from Locus. Or hell, I’m sure the Doc’s about to finish me off anyways.” Doc hold a hand over his hearted like he’s wounded,

 _“Hey!_ Words _hurt_! Just as much as bullet holes!” Felix gives him a glib look,

“Take my word on it, no they don’t.”

Wash hasn’t taken his eyes off of Felix since the injury. The buzzing against the back of his skull still hasn’t calmed down. When Wash was bleeding out, he put together a plan with Sarge to drag the Meta off a cliff. So Felix really shouldn’t expect him to lower his guard.

“Felix right?”

“Yeah, like I said-”

“You need to tell us what’s going on.”

“Sounds like a _great_ conversation to have after someone-” Felix looks to Doc accusingly, “ _Actually_ patches me up.” Doc puts his hands on his hips, feathers clearly ruffled.

Wash acts like he’s considering it for a moment, “Or, we could have it after your second gun shot wound.” Felix’s is clearly starting to lose his patience.

“Hey! In case you somehow forgot I _got_ this bullet hole by _saving_ _you_ from the guy who actually tried to kill you!” Any of the guilt that Felix tries to throw at him rolls around him like the wind.

“All the more reason you should already be talking.”

If Felix doesn’t come up with something better in the next five seconds Wash is going to stomp his injured leg. Felix is clearly _pissed_ about it but relents,

“Alright, Alright! Let me prove we’re on the same team. The guy’s name is _Locus_. He goes by the name of his armour.”

Wash eyes him, if it’s a lie, it’s uncreative, “Seriously?” Felix eyes him back,

“You think? What’s your first name again…Agent?”

…Wash genuinely considers letting him bleed out.

But they need the intel.

“Caboose? You remember where we keep the medkit?”

Caboose perks up with unabashed pride, “I say hello to it every morning!”

“Great, go get-wait what?”

“I’ll go get it!” Caboose charges off enthusiastically. Felix seems to feel the relief.

“Alright, then all I need is a hand with my stitches-Not you!” Felix immediately stops Doc the second he takes a step towards him. Doc _harrumphs_ but doesn’t try anything else.

Felix takes a quick look at the group-and his eyes land on Tucker.

Wash immediately steps between them blocking her from his view. Felix looks unimpressed,

“Y’mind?”

Wash is just about to insist he does mind but Caboose comes storming over.

Caboose moves with all the easy agility that he used during the training course. Then tosses the medkit straight for Felix’s helmet.

“Fort!”

The medkit _clangs_ against his helmet with a loud ring.

“Son of a bitch!”

Wash takes a deep breathe and only just barely stops himself from laughing.

 

* * *

 

_After Felix gets treated and explains_

 

 

Felix’s offer is the best of a small number of terrible choices. Wash’s mind is still _ringing_ with that feeling that’s something still clearly wrong, but if there’s a better way he doesn’t see it. So Wash has the Reds getting creative with their defences.

It’s a risk all it’s own, but it’s a calculated one. If they’re too predictable their defences will get blown away in seconds.

Right now it’s better the Reds and Blues don’t know how unlikely it is they’ll pull out of this without casualties.

Wash has Tucker fixing Caboose’s helmet, so right now they’re both safely tucked away right near the work bench which gives them easy access to cover and just to be safe, right within his line of sight.

Wash has Felix with him, he knows that if he tries to order them away from Felix they’ll just ignore him. The only way to keep Felix away from them is to keep Felix close to him.

So, they’re talking tactics.

Still, Wash can’t for the life of him figure out where he went wrong with the helmet, he watches as Tucker tinkers, prying open a delicate panel with her nails.

“Locus doesn’t normally lead from the front-”

Tucker’s stared plucking wires randomly and re-inserting them one at a time checking each time for any change in the lights.  
“Most cowards don’t. We’ll keep an eye out for sniper fire.”

“Good, alright, now for the awkward part. I know you don’t trust me yet but the clock’s a ticking, if you are gonna show me what we have to work with now’s the-Washington?”

Was that a flicker?

“Washington? The inventory?”

Maybe if he’d used better insulated wires-

“Alright, what the hell are you-” Felix follows his gaze the split second before Wash snaps his head back to Felix. Felix’s tone is nothing short of disgusted, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Wash won’t pretend he doesn’t get why Felix is upset.

“If you want to ogle your girlfriend, _fine._ But do it on your own time! We’re about to be swarmed by guys Locus _hand picked_ to kill us all. So unless you wanna stare at a very pretty corpse-”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Felix rolls his eyes,

“Jesus Christ what are you ten?” Wash stares him down until Felix is _forced_ to take it back, “Ok.Ok. Fine…Jesus Christ.” Felix gets a look to his eyes Wash hates on sight and peers up curiously, “So that mean she’s single?”

Wash steps directly into Felix’s personal space and makes a mental note that he’s about a half foot taller than Felix.

“If you go anywhere near either of them I will _snap_ you like a toothpick.”

Wash maintains eye contact until Felix backs away.

“Ok, not your girlfriend, but not single.”

Wash cocks his gun, “Good.”

They focus up after that.

Wash grills Felix for anything he can get on Locus, Felix does the same looking for any tech or equipment they might find useful. By the time they’re through Wash actually feels like he’s got a handle on the situation. Felix has had an eye on the enemy’s weaponry, and there are at least 6 different ways Wash could see this battle going without casualties on their end.

“Well, aside from all the times you’ve threatened me, I gotta say, it’s good to see the Freelancer name living up to the hype.”

Wash eyes him, “Well, you know what they say about old habits.” Felix shrugs casually,

“Yeah, well we’re probably gonna need some of those old habits to get out of this alive.”

Wash clamps down the rush of irrational denial when he hears Caboose cry out in sheer delight.

“My helmet!”

Tucker’s got the lights working. Wash watches as Caboose hugs Tucker far too tight and lifting her off her feet and twirling her around.

Wash watches as Caboose spins them both at top speed, and as Tucker struggles and curses at him to let her go he starts to feel something fierce bubble up in him. Wash decides if he’s going to do this, they’re going to do this right. He remembers, they talked about a few old sets of armour…

“Speaking of old habits…”

“…What? What about them? Finish your sentence.”

Wash starts towards the armour knowing that Felix will end up following him either way.

“…What the fuck are you saying!?!”

 

* * *

 

_After Wash suits up_

 

 

The new armour fits him like a glove. The armour’s black instead of grey, and the yellow highlights run in lines instead of patches at his shoulders.

Still fits better than Church’s armour was ever going to.

Felix gives Wash a once over like he might be crazy. _“That? That’s_ what all that cryptic shit was about? I thought you had like…some secret Freelancer alien tech! Some kind of bad ass weapon or something! Nope, just needed to make sure your new armour matches your eyes.”

Wash blows right past Felix and goes to the Reds… who’ve actually done a pretty decent job of preparing for the enemy… in a bizarre way, he’s almost disappointed.

The new…old look, gets their attention, Donut immediately approves.

“Back in black! Love it!” Tucker looks…surprised at first, actually he just remembers she’s only seen him wearing armour like this on side winder. He gets a fairly personal eying up and down but surprising him immensely she doesn’t say a word.

Grif eyes him carefully probably reliving a few bad memories,

“This doesn’t mean you’re gonna turn on us again right?” Simmons rolls his eyes at Grif,

“Don’t be stupid Grif, anyone he could betray us to would just be way worse.” Grif nods understandingly,

“Ohhh yeah, that’s why I haven’t tried it yet.”

“Wha-you’d sell us out to save your own neck?”

“Simmons, _please_. The first week into our crash I’d have sold you _all_ of you out just for a hamburger and given up Freckles for a side of fries.”

“Wow, ok, just for that I’m unfriending you on Basebook. Fuck you man.” Grif tilts his head curiously,

“On what?” Simmons crumbles right in front of them,

_“You haven’t even tried it yet!?”_

As Red team bickering falls to background noise Wash notices Caboose tilting his head confused, then claps his hands together cheerfully,

“You got your face back too!”

Wash laughs for the second time that day.

 

* * *

 

_Right before the attack_

 

 

Despite the handfuls of evidence, Wash has had a very lucky military career.

Wash doesn’t measure his luck by what’s thrown at him, or by the people who’ve tried to test that luck. You can just tell your lucky when you can walk away from your last fight. That’s it.

And so far he’s lucky.

Very lucky.

That luck was what got him on Freelancer’s board. It would never get him past third place. To get on top three you had to be more than lucky, or talented, or have a fancy new AI.

To get that far, you just had to be the very best.

So while he knows he can’t base his plans around Carolina showing up at the last minute and saving the day, he keeps catching himself looking over his shoulder asking her what they should do next.

Still, he’s actually pretty impressed. Sarge did a pretty reasonable job of covering all their weak points. Wash was expecting more chaos-

Sarge’s terrified screams fill the air, and Grif’s a close second yelling,

“Incoming!”

Wash cocks his gun on instinct and looks to Tucker and Caboose, “Alright! You know what to do! Man your stations!”

If Locus is approaching from the west then the mines they planted will force them to-

“Wait!” Felix rushes up from behind, his normal mercenary stealth all but entirely forgotten. “This isn’t right! Locus wouldn’t attack like this!” Wash backtracks to their talks and based on what Felix says he’s definitely more… surgical.

“Then who-”

_“Ejecutar bolsas de carne!”_

A fucking Spanish mantis.

Wash immediately turns to Sarge who’s _thunked_ himself behind cover. Sarge has his hands on his hips, sitting in the dirt because if he stood up he’d be shot by his own monstrosity. He’s huffing with the audacity to pretend to be offended.

 _“Oh!_ I see how it is! You just _assume_ I had a mad frenzy of jealously when Blue team got their own personal war machine! You think that little of me Blue!? You think that when your back was turned I had a blind fit of ambition so I found and activated _my own_ secret weapon, then didn’t tell you about it for tactical superiority!? Hogwash! Slander! Nothing can prove I did it!”

Donut makes a dive for cover, narrowly dodging a blast from the second mantis.

“Saaarge!!! Your equal attention robot is trying to kill us!”

This is partly his own fault. Wash tempted the universe when he complained about the lack of chaos.

But it’s still mostly Sarge’s fault.

Wash hasn’t broken enraged eye contact with Sarge the entire time he started talking. Sarge finally gives in and throws his hands up,

“Fine! Fine! I admit it! My genius gave birth to a miracle of war! But it’s really Blue team that started it!”

Wash may have an aneurism, _“What!?”_

Tucker cries out from behind cover, “How the fuck are you blaming us!?”

Felix manages to fire off a few rounds before being forced back behind the same cover as Donut Grif and Sarge, he whips towards them,

“Seriously!? None of you are gonna fight the giant mech!?”

Grif shrugs noncommittally next to him, “Eh, remember, you’re the only one getting paid here. Time to earn your keep pal.”  
Felix snaps at Grif, “How the fuck are you all still alive!?!”

Caboose looks over innocently from behind Freckles who’s fighting off the enemy mantis, “Mhmmm…friendship?” Wash decides Caboose is absolutely right,

“Freckles!”

 

* * *

 

_After Donut deals with Sarge’s Monstrosity_

 

 

Donut saves them from Sarge’s giant mistake, but Freckles took a lot of bad hits during the brawl and he desperately needs recharge.

There’s a new problem though,

“DOWNLOADING A PICTURE ON BASEBOOK!?!”

This is why he always has to supervise them. He _thought_ that Simmons was the sane one on Red Team. Instead he created the social media website that’s killed them all.

Simmon’s picks up on his death glare and immediately falls to pieces,

“Stop blaming me!” He shrieks, more upset by Wash than the active war zone, “I’m not the one who put the picture up-”

Tucker groans loudly, “This is bullshit!”

Wash _tries_ to reach out and grab her, but she’s too damned _slippery_ and she’s running out into open fire.

“Covering fire! Now!”

…Honestly? She may not have needed it.

Tucker puts his training course to shame, running straight past, and leaping straight over enemy fire. She pulls moves most of the guys in his first unit would _lie_ about to impress people.

And just a couple of seconds after she slips into the other base, the picture’s gone.

What a woman.

 

* * *

 

_Five minutes before it all goes wrong_

 

 

At first it really looks like they’ll make it.

Their defences are holding and Tucker’s stepped up stronger and faster than he’d ever dreamed.

But he’s not paying enough attention to his six again, it’s already too much to keep track of his team as is but with Locus’ stealth tech it’s impossible to see him coming. It’s a oversight that costs him, and Locus takes full advantage.

Locus takes the shot and the battlefield _scatters_ out from under him. Wash’s chest fragments inside his armour, the world turns on it’s side. Pain splinters his mind into little bits.

The world ebbs in and out around him, there’s yelling, shooting, cries of death and regret-

_Felix_

Felix is leading Tucker away.

Wash barely even remembers what that sentence means but hasn’t forgotten its _important_. It’s enough to get him on his feet.

“Wash!!!”

She’s there, and the world shifts into focus.

The soldiers dying around them and his friends lying on the ground.

The crushing weight in his chest that tells him he’d never make the short trip to the tunnel to get free.

How many soldiers would die waiting for him to fail?

Would Locus get to Tucker in the opening?

Wash looks to Freckles, and decides. No half measures.

_“Freckles! Shake!”_

Tucker _shrieks_ and it’s as bad as the time she cried over Junior. As soon as he hears it she’s already trapped behind the cave in he had Freckles cause. He turns just in time for Locus to smash the butt of his rifle into Wash’s temple.

And he falls.

He wasn’t lucky today.

 

* * *

 

_Immediately after Wash gets his command back_

 

 

Wash puts his helmet back on as Caboose shows off his helmet to Freckles.

“Freckles! Freckles! Look Freckles! I got my face back!”

Wash’s so proud of himself he doesn’t see her come up from behind _again_.

Before he can stop it Tucker’s right behind him landing a sharp _slap_ to his ass. Wash lets out a humiliating _yelp_ because getting spanked in public wasn’t enough. Tucker doesn’t even seem to notice, or like she was even making a _move_ , just...her way of saying hello...or something. 

“Pretty smooth Wash! A few sweet words and you’re back on top!”

He _knows_ she’s leading up to a sex joke. But there’s something he’s needed to talk about with her for a while now and he feels like he’s on a role, so he needs to steer her to steadier territory.

“Nothing sneaky about it. I meant every word.” From the look in those eyes and the way she sucks on her bottom lip he hasn’t convinced her,

“Well, if you ever want on top of _me-”_

Here it comes.

“A few sweet words would get you a lot more than a giant killer robot.”

Wash laughs.

He shouldn’t be laughing, with everything they still have to do, and so much working against them with there shouldn’t be _anything_ to laugh about. But it comes on too fast and he can’t stop himself, Tucker grins at him with great personal pride.

Wash manages to calm down after a minute, when he does Tucker is still watching him and still _smiling_ at him. But now she’s smiling at him like there’s nothing else in the world that could stop her from it.

“I should be so lucky.”

Tucker goes completely still and she stops smiling all at once.

Wash takes a breathe,

And then a step into her personal space. He’s close enough to remember how _short_ she is.

“I didn’t answer you…I _couldn’t_ answer you before, and for the longest time I didn’t know why… But, I get it now.”

Tucker follows his every little movement with her eyes and he can hear the oh so _faint_ inhale.

“I don’t want just one night with you.”

Tucker doesn’t say a word for a while, but there’s... _warmth_  radiating from her.

…

…

…

“Really?”

She’s so… _unguarded_.

So damned near _vulnerable_ , he can’t help but remember seeing her for the first time in the showers.

It feels like an eternity ago, but they’re both _still_ standing there, uncovered to each other in a way that’s only for the two of them.

“Really.”

Wash lightly touches her hand with his own and reminds her almost apologetically, “It’s still a bad idea to get involved in this canyon…but maybe after you’re safe, we could go get dinner sometime?”

Tucker breathes deep, and at first she won’t look him in the eyes. Wash watches her patiently as she fiddles with the compartment on her belt where she keeps her picture of Junior.

“Yeah.”

Wash takes in a breathe-was he holding his-doesn’t matter.

“Yeah?” He’s a little ashamed at the way his voice catches, but if anything it seems to stir Tucker on. Tucker smirks again, she steps the whole way into Wash’s personal space and wraps her arms around his neck.

 _“Hell_ yeah.”

_Hell yeah_

She has to stretch to get to his eye line, but she’s about to-

Gunfire

_Fuck_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not sure when the next update will be. Sorry, I don’t want to make a false promise. I will TRY for within the next two weeks. 
> 
> Also, if my Spanish is translated correctly, Dous Point O says,
> 
> Run Meatbags!!!!
> 
> If not, to be clear I don’t speak Spanish.


End file.
